


If Not For You

by Kit_Kat21



Series: The Direwolves [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Band Fic, Character Death, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Lyanna is Not a Stark, Muses, Recreational Drug Use, References to the Beatles, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-07 18:18:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 65,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15225142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: The three “…” appear and Jon waits for her response, feeling his heart speed up a bit within his chest. His heart always speeds up when he’s talking to her – whether it’s through texts or calls or actually face-to-face. They all think – even his own mum thinks – that Ygritte is his muse; the girl behind all of the songs he writes, but they don’t know that it’s another redhead that has always had that title.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chocolateghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolateghost/gifts).



> The Direwolves = The Beatles. All songs used in this story are property of the Beatles and I own none of them.

...

 

“By the end, it became quite complicated. But at the beginning, things were really simple.” – Paul McCartney

 

…

 

“Jon, this is too extravagant,” Lyanna Snow tells her son as she walks around the kitchen – which she thinks might be larger than the entire first floor of her current home.

 

“Mum, that girl climbed in through your bathroom window because she knew that you’re my mum and that you live there. How am I supposed to be away while I’m worried about you?” Jon says, still with patience despite Lyanna’s countless protests to him buying her this house.

 

Lyanna sighs but doesn’t comment on that as she walks to the large picture window along the back wall that overlooks the massive property that the massive house is sitting on. Jon pauses before he joins her. 

 

“Plenty of room for you to garden,” Jon points out.

 

“Jon…” Lyanna begins to say and then sighs, turning towards him. “This is the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen, but… this isn’t Wintertown. This isn’t home.”

 

“It will be though,” Jon cuts in, still maintaining his patience. He’s been prepared for this and nothing his mum is saying right now is a surprise to him. She’s a Wintertown girl – born and raised – and Jon hadn’t been expecting her to be so eager and willing to move away from all she’s ever known.

 

She wouldn’t have to move from their home if he hadn’t-

 

Jon abruptly cuts his own thoughts off before they can continue along that path.

 

“The Starks’ country home is right down the road and they are spending more of their time there so you already know the neighbors,” Jon says. “And I’ve already picked the perfect spot for my piano so I can stay with you while I’m not out on tour.”

 

That gets a smile out of Lyanna and she turns away from the window to look at her only child. “You’re going to be staying with your mum in your down time and not at your own place or not with your girlfriend?” She asks him, looking amused at the idea. 

 

Jon shakes his head. “I see Ygritte enough.”

 

Lyanna keeps smiling and Jon begins to frown, wishing that she would stop. “That’s an interesting outlook on your muse. _I see her enough_ ,” Lyanna mimics Jon’s voice. “I wonder if that’ll be the next top ten hit from you.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Jon rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile, and putting his hands on his mum’s shoulders, he turns her around. “Let me show you your new master bedroom,” he says, gently driving her out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

 

When they enter the largest bedroom in the house, Lyanna glances at it for just a moment before she turns back to her son. “Things _are_ okay between you and Ygritte, aren’t they?” She asks.

 

Jon can’t help, but sigh. “Why are you so distracted by Ygritte all of a sudden?”

 

Lyanna hesitates for just a moment. “I know I shouldn’t, but I read that you were having problems-”

 

“You’re right. You shouldn’t.” Jon sighs heavily. “Tabloids? Really, mum?”

 

“Don’t look at me like that, Jon Snow,” Lyanna frowns. “I was at the checkout in the market and your face was right in front of me!”

 

Jon sighs again. “I think also this week, the rags have the band breaking up for the sixth time and Grenn is coming out of the closet as well.”

 

“Oh, well that’s just ridiculous. Grenn, gay?” Lyanna waves that away with her hand and Jon cracks a small smile.

 

His phone dings then, alerting him to a new message, and Jon reaches for it from his back pocket. He smiles a bit wider despite his best efforts; knowing that his mother will probably catch it and question him. Either that or she’ll just assume that it’s Ygritte texting him that is getting him to smile.

 

 _What’s the verdict?_ – Sansa writes to him.

 

Jon glances towards his mother, who has finally decided to explore the bedroom, going to open the closet. She gasps then, looking at the size of the walk-in closet. Ever since he’s been a young lad, Jon has heard his mum say that one of her biggest wishes in this life is to have her very own walk-in closet.

 

 _Being stubborn, but that’s to be expected._ – Jon texts back.

 

The three “…” appear and Jon waits for her response, feeling his heart speed up a bit within his chest. His heart always speeds up when he’s talking to her – whether it’s through texts or calls or actually face-to-face. They all think – even his own mum thinks – that Ygritte is his muse; the girl behind all of the songs he writes, but they don’t know that it’s another redhead that has always had that title.

 

Sansa doesn’t know it. No one does. None of the other lads – especially not Robb – or Sam or Dickon in the studio. When the journalists ask him about his song-writing process, when he mentions “muse”, all assume he’s talking about Ygritte. After all, they have been dating for nearly two years and their pictures are usually splashing at least one cover of those rags his mum apparently likes to read.

 

Who else would Jon Snow’s muse be if not Ygritte?

 

But every song Jon has ever written about involving a girl, Sansa Stark is always the face in his mind he sees when he’s putting the words together. And it would just be better for everyone if no one ever finds that out. Especially Robb. Especially Ygritte. And especially Sansa.

 

 _Be sure to show her the walk-in closet! And the patio to the pool!_ – Sansa’s text dings.

 

Jon has already decided that he will also not be informing his mum that Sansa had helped him find this house. Because even though he and Sansa have been friends for years now, Jon knows his mum and Lyanna will begin to ask him questions that Jon knows he’s not prepared to answer. Or even worse than that, Lyanna will give him that smile that she sometimes gives him when she hears something and is greatly amused by it; usually at Jon’s expense.

 

“I have another surprise,” Jon says as he slips his phone back into his back pocket.

 

Lyanna steps from the walk-in closet and she’s still smiling and it makes Jon smile, too. She seems to finally be warming up to this place. He should have showed her the closet first. This woman had given up so much in her own life and had done everything she could possibly do for him. He knows that no amount of walk-in closets will make up for it all.

 

_She had dipped into some of their savings to buy it for him. One of the cooks at the restaurant where she waitressed was selling it and she knew how much Jon wanted to learn. And when she brought the guitar home and presented it to nine-year-old Jon, his eyes widened and he held it as if it was glass._

_She then dipped further into their savings so she could provide him with lessons so he could learn how to play. Two times a week, Jon met with his instructor and then all hours in between when he wasn’t doing schoolwork, Jon was practicing his chords and strumming notes and learning basic songs._

_Lyanna sat on the couch and he stood in front of her, playing for her what he learned so far. She saw the tears clinging to his lashes as he kept strumming and would pluck a wrong note no matter how much he tried to correct himself in the first simple song he had been taught._

_“It’s alright, Jon,” Lyanna told him, perching herself on the edge of the cushion, leaning towards him. “You’ll get it soon. Just keep going.”_

_Jon stopped and shook his head. “You don’t know much about guitars, do you, mum?” The boy had asked, lifting his wet eyes to look at her._

_And at the sight of his tears, Lyanna felt her eyes prick with her own. “I don’t,” she shook her head. “But I know that, like with anything, you just have to stick with it and keep going.”_

_Jon sniffled and nodded and Lyanna smiled as he started the song over. He plucked a wrong string, but like his mum had told him, he kept going._

“Another surprise?” Lyanna asks. “Do you mean that you’ve bought me _another_ mansion in the country?”

 

Jon’s lips twitch. “This is hardly a mansion,” he says. “Come on.”

 

He takes her hand and pulls her across the bedroom, only letting go so he can open both of the doors that lead outside. He then steps aside so Lyanna can get her first look. And when she does, she gasps as sharply as she did when she saw the walk-in closet.

 

“Jon,” she whispers.

 

Right from Lyanna’s bedroom, the doors open onto the back patio and a sparkling blue pool past that. The pool is large and comes complete with statues, a slide, and an attached hot tub. Lyanna stares at it, a hand over her mouth and tears pooling in her eyes.

 

“ _This_ is the real reason why I’m going to be staying here on my off time,” Jon jokes. “And it’s heated, too, so you can swim in the springs and falls, too.”

 

“Oh, Jon,” Lyanna says. The pool is surrounded with perfectly manicured green lawns and rose bushes as well as a fence encasing the entire large property. Jon feels the fence is the most important feature.

 

This is the most beautiful home, Jon knows, that his mum has ever seen and it will probably take her some getting used to, having this be all hers. But he has the money to do this for her. More than enough money and Wintertown just isn’t safe anymore. As the band gets even bigger and more famous, more fans are flocking to the small town in hopes of seeing one of the lads or their families or their family’s homes. And their fans have been known to be a bit… _enthusiastic_ , Jon supposes is the nicest way to put it. He loves their fans, of course, but he doesn’t trust them to be able to control themselves and leave his mum and his childhood home alone.

 

And even if Direwolves fans weren’t rabid, Jon would still buy his mom this house in the country. She bought Jon his first guitar. He buys Lyanna her first mansion. It’s still not enough, in Jon’s opinion, but at least he’s on his way – finally – to being able to thank her.

 

As Lyanna walks to the pool’s edge, Jon pulls out his phone one more time and sends Sansa another text.

 

 _Success_ – is all he says.

 

Sansa’s reply comes a minute later and when Jon sees the smiling emoji, it makes him smile as well, so easily able to imagine Sansa’s smiling face.

 

As he goes to join his mum, Jon can hear a grouping of words beginning to form in his mind. It’s a new song. Just from Sansa’s texts and the vision of her smiling in his mind, he can begin to see the words. He’s going to have to go grab a pencil soon so he can get it down.

 

_If you let me take your heart, I will prove to you…_

Jon stands at his mum’s side, humming to himself, figuring out the melody as more words come to him.

 

_We will never be apart, if I’m part of you…_

…

 

**Four Years Earlier.**

“Robb!” Sansa yells over the guitar playing, pounding on the locked door. “Dad! Robb is hogging the bathroom again and I have to finish getting ready!”

 

“Robb!” Ned’s answering shout rings out from below. “Get out of the toilet!”

 

A second later, the door is unlocked and yanked open, Robb sticking his head out. “I’m practicing!” He shouts to the rest of the house. “You know the toilet has the best acoustics!”

 

“You can keep practicing! Just let me brush my teeth!”

 

And with that, Sansa pushes past him to do just that.  

 

Robb pauses for a moment and then closes the door behind both of them, returning to his seat on the closed toilet lid. He strums his fingers down the guitar strings, adjusting himself to be more comfortable. He then resumes playing the song he had been practicing at before the interruption. Sansa stands quietly at the sink, brushing her teeth and listening.

 

“I like that,” she then comments after spitting out the paste and rinsing her mouth out.

 

“Yeah?” Robb smiles a little. “Jon and I started on it last night. We’ll probably finish it up this morning during second period.”

 

“What’s it called?” She asks as she brushes out her hair and then begins braiding it.

 

“Untitled for the moment.” Robb strums one more time and then stands up. “We’re thinking it needs something a bit more. Might get Theon to play his harmonica and we’ll see if that works. _So please, love me do_ …” Robb sings the words one more time and then goes to join his sister at the sink.

 

He leans in close to the mirror and rubs a hand on his cheek. “I need to shave,” he then notes.

 

“No time. The bus will be here soon,” Sansa tells him, opening the bathroom door.

 

“Jeyne wanted me to shave. Yearbook pictures today and we’re getting _Best Couple_ taken at the school fountain,” Robb says, speaking more to himself. “Oh, well,” he then sighs. “She’ll understand.”

 

“She always does,” Sansa remarks and Robb grins at that.

 

Sansa doesn’t know _why_ her brother’s girlfriend, Jeyne Westerling, always understands. She and Robb have been together since they were in ninth grade, but that doesn’t stop Robb from being a constant flirt with any girl. He’s faithful to Jeyne and they love one another and everyone knows they’re together, but that doesn’t stop Robb with his smiles and winks. The problem with Robb – and everyone, including Robb, is aware of it – is that he is far too charming.

 

It’s none of her business, and Sansa loves her brother immensely, but she still wonders why Jeyne puts up with it. Sansa can’t imagine ever being with a boy who always shows such attention to girls who aren’t her.

 

“Robb! Sansa!” Catelyn yells up to them this time. “Jon’s here and the bus will be here soon!”

 

As casually as she can without Robb noticing, Sansa gives herself one more look in the mirror, making sure her braid is neat and there’s no remnants of toothpaste on her face. Every school morning, it’s the same. She will be getting ready and one of her parents will call out that Jon Snow has arrived as he does every other morning and Sansa will feel her heart beating just a little bit faster within her chest.

 

She tells herself, of course, that there’s no reason for such a reaction and she tries to get herself to stop. Jon Snow has been her brother’s best friend for so many years now and with the addition of Theon Greyjoy, they have all been around since she was an infant. Jon has never looked at her as anything more than his best mate’s little sister and Sansa knows that he probably never will. There are plenty of other girls at their school, Winterfell Academy, who take note of Jon Snow. She’s certainly not the only girl to get a quickened heartbeat around him and Sansa knows they all have better chances than she does.

 

But still, she always finds herself wanting to look her best when around him.

 

In his school uniform, Jon waits for them in the kitchen as he always does, Catelyn Stark pushing a piece of toast into his hand as she always does. Lyanna Snow works late every evening at the restaurant and is usually still asleep when Jon leaves for school in the mornings. Catelyn is always convinced, despite Jon being nearly eighteen now, that he is incapable of providing himself with a breakfast and takes it upon herself to make sure that he has something in his stomach before they all leave for school.

 

“Good morning,” Sansa smiles at him as Robb collects a bit of extra pocket money from their father, mentioning that he, Jon and Theon want to go to the music store after school.

 

“And what happened to your allowance?” Ned asks even as he reaches for his wallet. “I keep trying to tell you that you need to be more responsible with your pocket money, Robb.”

 

“Perhaps you should just give me a bit _more_ pocket money to begin with, dad. Then I wouldn't always have to ask for more,” Robb gives their father a grin.

 

Jon smirks a little and then looks to Sansa. “Good morning,” he says with his own little smile that makes her stomach clench and she’s fairly certain that her cheeks are obviously pink.

 

The three leave the Stark home with good-byes to their parents and begin heading for the corner where they catch the bus for their school. Theon Greyjoy is already there, smoking a cigarette and saying something to two women – who look to be in their young twenties and dressed to get to work, waiting for their own bus. He’s grinning and the two women are smiling; one trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. Theon has a penchant for being nearly as charming as Robb.

 

Sansa walks at Jon’s side. He’s always been the quiet one of the boys’ trio. Everything with Robb and Theo is right there in the open, on their sleeve, but not Jon. Despite knowing him for her entire life, Sansa still feels like, most times, she doesn’t know him at all.

 

When girls come up to her at school and ask her questions about Jon Snow – all knowing that he is constantly over at the Stark house with her brother and Theon – Sansa can honestly say “I don’t know”.

 

“Theon!” Robb calls out as they get closer.

 

“Hey,” Theon turns and grins at his friends. He pulls out two more cigarettes for Jon and Robb and Sansa stands on the curb, hugging her books to her chest, listening as the boys smoke and talk about their latest song; the one Robb had been practicing in the bathroom that morning.

 

“What do you think?” Robb asks Jon.

 

“It could work,” Jon agrees. “Do you have your harmonica?” He then asks Theon.

 

“Always,” Theon gives a grin.

 

Sansa watches as he pulls it from his back pocket and with his cigarette carefully tucked between his fingers, he brings the harmonica to his mouth and begins playing a barrage of notes, his eyes gleaming at the two women and both opening giggling now.

 

“Come over after school,” Robb tells him. “We’ll finish putting the song together then.”

 

“Are all three of you going to fit in the toilet?” Sansa asks with a smile, only partially teasing.

 

“Maybe we can practice in your bedroom, Sansa,” Theon gives her a grin and Robb punches him in the arm. Sansa merely rolls her eyes.

 

The bus comes then, squealing to a stop at the curb, the doors opening. The three boys all take one fast last drag on their cigarettes before dropping them to the sidewalk and they follow Sansa on. She finds an open seat and swings herself in, sitting down beside the window. Robb and Theon head further down the aisle and Jon settles himself down next to Sansa.

 

She does her best to keep her heart beating at a fairly normal pace. She’s far too young to suffer from heart palpitations even though she feels like the doctor will understand once she explains that Jon Snow was sitting right next to her on the bus, his arm brushing against hers.

 

Their eyes catch and he gives her a small smile and Sansa commends herself for being able to return it without her face bursting in flames.

 

The bus pulls away from the curb and continues its journey to their school, kids all around them talking and laughing and shouting back and forth with others. Jon and Sansa sit quietly though, Sansa occupying herself with looking out at the familiar Wintertown homes and shops they pass every day. Despite the noise, from beside her, she realizes can hear Jon humming.

 

She turns her head away from the window and looks to him. He sometimes wears his hair pulled back into a man-bun, but today, his black curls are down and Sansa clutches her fingers around the books in her lap so she won’t find herself reaching out and tucking one behind his ear.

 

“I don’t recognize that one,” she speaks, startling Jon at the sound. His humming stops immediately and he looks at her. Sansa gives him a slight smile. “Is that another one you’re working on?”

 

“Um, yeah,” he answers and his cheeks look a little pink to her now for some reason. She wonders if Jon is actually blushing for some reason or another or if it’s just the bus this morning. The bus _does_ feel a little warm to her as well; that or it’s just from sharing the ride with and sitting this close to Jon. “Just something I’ve been working on by myself. Haven’t shared it with the guys yet.”

 

“I like it,” she tells him with the same smile. “Does it have a name?”

 

Jon looks at her and seems to hesitate. He then nods his head and he keeps his eyes trained on hers as he answers. “Yeah…um, _I Wanna Hold Your Hand_.”

 

…


	2. Chapter 2

…

 

“I fell in love with Cynthia. It’s as simple as that.” – John Lennon

 

…

 

“On a scale of nine to ten, how good do you think I look?” Robb asks, coming into her bedroom.

 

“Robb, don’t you knock?” Sansa asks, frowning at her brother through the mirror’s reflection.

 

Robb ignores the question. “Nine or ten, Sansa?”

 

Sansa sighs heavily and turns away from her dresser to look at his appearance. When Robb had first formed his band, The Direwolves, along with Jon and Theon, Robb had wanted the band to have a specific look; a look that people could look at them and be able to say, “Ah. That’s the Direwolf look.” A black suit, black shoes, a white shirt, and a black tie.

 

“You look fine,” she replies and Robb grins at the answer.

 

She turns back to the mirror and finishes with the last touches on getting herself ready for that evening. Robb takes it upon himself to sit down on the foot of her bed and he hums as he looks around her room. She can hear the rest of their family getting ready as well throughout the rest of the house – Catelyn telling Arya that she cannot wear her favorite pair of trainers tonight and Ned helping Bran with his tie while Rickon, the littlest Stark, is whining that he doesn’t want to wear a tie.

 

Ned Stark’s younger brother, Benjen Stark, had long ago announced himself to be an eternal bachelor. Getting married and having children was more of his older brother’s lot in life and Benjen could never imagine having any of the same things for himself. But Sansa has heard that the instant a person is convinced their life is going to go one way, their life goes the completely opposite direction – if the family getting themselves prepared for Benjen’s wedding that afternoon is any indication.

 

Sansa finishes applying the last of her light makeup and then turns away from the mirror to look to Robb, holding her hands out to her sides. “How do I look?” She asks. “On a scale of nine to ten,” she adds with a smile. “Mum and I went dress shopping yesterday and I bought this one because I love it, but I’m still not entirely sure. I don’t normally wear yellow.”

 

Robb remains sitting on her bed, looking at her and frowning fiercely.

 

“You do remember that I’m going to be playing tonight and won’t be able to punch blokes in the face who pant after you, don’t you?” Robb asks.

 

Sansa promptly rolls her eyes even if Robb’s answer does please her. Robb threatening boys who seem to get too friendly with his sister is nothing new. Jon and Theon do the same thing as well. If Robb feels that a boy is getting too close to Sansa and the boy needs to be reminded to respect his sister’s personal space, Jon and Theon are right there with Robb to remind him. That’s the way it has always been and Sansa assumes that it will always be that way. 

 

Still though, with Robb so readily threatening violence, it makes Sansa think she chose the right dress.

 

She feels instantly stupid for having a lingering thought of wondering how Jon will react when he sees her and she shakes her head at herself. She really needs to start taking the steps in getting over Jon Snow. It’s a crush and in the grand scheme of things, it means nothing and Sansa needs it to go away already. It’s been around for _years_ and sometimes, when she sees Jon, she feels like she can hardly function like a normal human being and she doesn’t like that. She doesn’t like that Jon can unbalance her so much; especially with how one-sided it seems to be.

 

Maybe she’d be willing – _more_ than willing – to encourage her crush if she knew that Jon had any type of feelings for her in return, but the fact that he’s never treated her as anything other than Robb’s sister, pining after a boy who doesn’t even see her is not something Sansa feels like doing for the rest of her life.

 

For the ceremony, only family is in attendance as Benjen and his soon-to-be wife, Alys, stand in the Godswood, in front of the weir tree, and become married through the Old Gods that both Alys’ family and the Stark side of the family believe in and practice.

 

For the reception, everyone else invited is already arriving at the recreation center built on the edge of the Godswood. Jon, Theon and their drummer, Harwin – a mate of theirs from school – is on the small stage in the hall, setting up their instruments and after one more hug of congratulations to Benjen and Alys, Robb goes to join them.

 

Sansa’s eyes follow after her brother and they seem to instantly find and land on Jon. He – and Theon and Harwin – are dressed as Robb in the black suit and his hair, this evening, is pulled back into its bun. He looks handsome – ridiculously handsome – as he always does and Sansa feels her heart speeding up within her chest just from the sight of him.

 

“Want to go get a drink?” Arya asks and Sansa can almost give her sister a kiss for successfully breaking her attention away from Jon.

 

“Definitely,” Sansa nods quickly and she and Arya cross the room to get to the bar. Both are underage so both get Shirley Temples to drink.

 

“I hope they don’t choke tonight,” Arya comments, looking towards the stage.

 

Benjen and Alys have both come to the stage now and all four boys are smiling at the couple as Benjen says something, smiling, and Robb replies, letting out a laugh and slapping Jon on the back. Jon, for his part, gives a small smile, but looks embarrassed at whatever was said.

 

Sansa sips at her drink through the little black straw and doesn’t say anything. She can’t imagine The Direwolves choking tonight though. Yes, this is one of their first _official_ gigs and not just playing at a party that one of their friends are having, but she knows Robb, Jon and Theon well enough to know that this, what they’re about to do – stand on stage and play and sing and perform – that’s what they’re meant to do. She’s never told them such a thing because Sansa knows that they will probably just laugh about it, but what they’re about to do, Sansa firmly believes that this is what they’re supposed to do with their lives. They’re all so talented and Sansa knows everyone at the reception that evening is in for a surprise.

 

Benjen taps on one of the microphones on stage as Alys stays on the floor below and clears his throat as everyone turns their attention to him.

 

“On behalf of Alys and myself, we would like to thank everyone for coming this evening and helping us celebrate our marriage,” Benjen says and then pauses as cheers and applause break out from everyone. Benjen looks to Alys and smiles as she smiles up at him. “Alys and I would also like to thank my nephew, Robb, and his band for playing for us tonight. Now, ladies and gentlemen, The Direwolves!”

 

More applause and cheering and Benjen steps down from the stage, taking Alys’ hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

 

Sansa watches as the boys get themselves ready, adjusting their guitars and microphones and Harwin spinning his drumsticks between his fingers. And then, they begin to play Benjen and Alys’ song for their first dance. Sansa tries not to, but she can’t get her eyes to get off of Jon, especially when he’s strumming his guitar and then begins to sing.

 

_“There were bells, on a hill._

_But I never heard them ringing._

_No, I never heard them at all,_

_Till there was you._

_There were birds, in the sky._

_But I never saw them winging._

_No, I never saw them at all,_

_Till there was you.”_

 

“Are you okay?” Arya asks, once again breaking through Sansa’s thoughts. “It looks like you’re about to swallow your straw.”

 

Sansa shakes her head slightly and does her best to smile at her sister. “I’m alright. I just… I have to go to the bathroom,” she quickly says and then excuses herself, not looking at Arya again; feeling like Arya can take one look at her and just _know_ about the thoughts that are currently racing through Sansa’s mind; thoughts that are making her want to change her underwear.

 

As Jon continues singing and the band continues playing and Uncle Benjen and Alys continue dancing, Sansa sets her glass down and slips from the room, the door closing behind her. Once she’s alone and the noise is muffled, she exhales a deep breath. Her heart won’t stop pounding as she puts her hands on her cheeks and heads down the hallway towards the bathrooms.

 

She wishes she wasn’t _quite_ so pathetic when it comes to Jon Snow.

 

By the time she leaves the bathroom again, Sansa thinks she has gotten a handle on herself once again. Maybe Uncle Benjen and Aunt Alys have an available – much more appropriate – young man Sansa can meet her tonight. Preferably, one who’s not in a band and has a stupid man-bun and looks ridiculously good in a suit and sings. She needs someone the complete opposite of that. The complete opposite would be preferred. A tall man with a buzzed haircut and with no musical inclination.

 

She stops abruptly when she turns down the hallway that leads back to the reception room. Apparently, _no one_ is able to read her thoughts for sitting on a bench against the wall is Jon. Of course, it would be Jon out in the hallway and no one else. Sansa can’t stop herself from exhaling a heavy sigh. Maybe Jon _can_ read her mind and he has taken it upon himself to torture her.

 

He sees her from the corner of his eye and he turns his head to look at her, standing up. “Hey,” he says.

 

Sansa begins walking towards him. “Hi,” she says in return. “You guys on a break already?”

 

“Just for everyone to eat. They switched to a DJ right now. We’ll pick it up in a little bit again.”

 

“You sounded so amazing in there, Jon,” she then feels the need to tell him.

 

He looks a little embarrassed at the praise, shifting almost shyly. “Thank you. Alys told us what she wanted their first dance to so I was practicing all week.”

 

“Well, it certainly paid off,” Sansa then says with a smile and Jon returns it with a little smile of his own.

 

Jon is quite for a moment and he’s looking at her – staring is more like it – and it is Sansa’s turn to shift shyly. She wishes he wouldn’t stare like that. He’s already given her the feeling once that she needs to change her underwear. She doesn’t need any more reasons to add to it.

 

“You look beautiful tonight, Sansa,” Jon then says in a lower voice that makes her want to shiver and melt all at once. “You… you really do.”

 

“Thank you, Jon,” she manages to say without tripping up on the words and she feels her cheeks flame.

 

From inside the room, Sansa hears a muffled song then and Jon hears it, too, because after a second, he takes another step towards Sansa and holds his hand out.

 

“Would you like to dance?” He asks. “I know how much you love this song.”

 

“How can anyone _not_ love this song?” Sansa wonders and Jon smiles.

 

She wonders if he can feel her fingers trembling as she lays her hand in his and Jon steps closer, the space between them disappearing. And with his other hand on her waist and Sansa’s other hand on his shoulder, they begin to sway. Sansa can’t help herself from humming along to _A Sunday Kind of Love_ by Etta James and she just wants to close her eyes and rest her cheek to Jon’s and lose herself to this boy that she’s dancing with in the hallway.

 

She can feel Jon’s hand on her hip and he is slowly moving it towards the small of her back and Sansa shuffles in a little closer to Jon, her chest brushing against his. Jon takes that action for what it is – an invitation – and he exhales a soft sigh, his hand holding onto hers a little tighter and his hand firm now on the small of her back.

 

Sansa wishes that this song would last forever.

 

Both jump when the door bangs open and then “There he is!” Robb exclaims.

 

Hands drop and bodies step away from one another and Sansa wonders if Jon feels as cold as she does now.

 

“Told you he’d be defiling your sister,” Theon gives a grin.

 

Robb punches Theon in the arm for that and Sansa dares a glance at Jon. His face looks pink and he’s rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. He seems to be embarrassed that he’s been caught dancing with her. Sansa lowers her eyes and tilts her face down so no one can see her frown.

 

“Hey. Uncle Benjen wants us to meet someone,” Robb says to Jon.

 

“Who?” Jon asks.

 

“He has an old Army friend here. Hallis Mollen and Uncle Benjen says it’s important we talk to him tonight,” Robb answers and takes the cigarette Theon is handing out for him. “I guess after the Army, Hallis got into promoting. Boxing and _band_ promoting.”

 

Jon stares at him at that. “No shit?”

 

Robb grins. “No shit.”

 

“Excuse me,” Sansa says though she knows the other guys aren’t paying attention to her.

 

She leaves the four of them in the hallway and goes back into the reception room where most everyone is sitting down at the tables, dinner beginning to be served. She finds her family easily enough and slips down into the seat that has been kept empty for her next to her mum.

 

Catelyn smiles at her, but then it fades as she takes note of Sansa’s face. “Are you feeling alright?” She asks, lifting a hand to one of Sansa’s cheeks. “You’re looking flushed, dear.”

 

Sansa can still feel Jon’s hand on the small of her back and his warm breath dancing across her cheek.

 

She swallows before answering. “I’m fine. It’s a bit warm in here, isn’t it?” She then asks.

 

Catelyn looks at her for another moment and Sansa can see her eyes move past her. Sansa turns and her flush deepens even further when she sees Robb, Theon, Jon and Harwin entering the room again. Sansa looks back to her mum. Catelyn is looking at her once more, smiling knowingly, and Sansa suddenly dislikes very much that she has always looked to her mum as one of her closest friends. Catelyn knows her far too well.

 

“I suppose it is a _little_ warm in here,” Catelyn says with sparkling eyes.

 

…

 

Jon pauses from playing so he can write the notes down before strumming them on his guitar once more.

 

“No,” Robb shakes his head, standing up from the chair he’s strumming his own guitar in. “I mean, yes, it’s good, but no, it needs something else. Maybe a little introduction?”

 

Jon hums a moment, testing out notes.

 

_“I don’t wanna kiss or hold your hand._

_If it’s funny, try and understand._

_There is really nothing else I’d rather do,_

_‘cause I’m happy just to dance with you.”_

He finishes the first verse and then turns to Robb. “Introduction? I was thinking of having Theon sing this one.”

 

If Theon sings it, it won’t be that obvious that this song is about Sansa.

 

“Theon?” Robb repeats, frowning a little. “Hmmmm. Yeah, that might work. Get a bit more comfortable with singing. And yes. An introduction instead of jumping right into the first verse.”

 

Robb then plays the notes they’ve written down.

 

_“Before this dance is through,_

_I think I love you, too.”_

Jon writes those words down and then hums to himself.

 

_“I’m so happy when you dance with me.”_

“Yes!” Robb grins and then plays it all on his guitar. “That kind of introduction.”

 

They sing the introduction and first verse together, adjusting notes as they go.

 

“Did you talk to your mom about what Hallis said?” Robb asks as they take a break.

 

Jon nods, swallowing down his water. “Yeah. Do you think Hallis is for real?”

 

Robb shrugs. “If he is, if he’s not, who cares? We’ll be having the time of our life in Essos, playing and performing. What could be better than that?”

 

“Being able to afford food?” Jon smirks a little.

 

“Food, schmood,” Robb waves that off. “We go to Essos as soon as we graduate, we play, we practice. We get better. We become the biggest band in the world. Easy as one, two, three.”

 

Jon just smiles and takes another sip of his soda.

 

What Hallis had talked to them about at the wedding reception, it hadn’t been the worst thing in the world. Despite what their parents may or may not want for them, Robb, Jon and Theon had all planned on not going onto university after they graduate. They have never had desires for that. They’ve just wanted to play their music.

 

And according to Hallis, The Direwolves going to Essos is the best possible way to do that. It would be a chance to hone their performance skills and get more of a reputation. Hallis had sent another band he had promoted to Essos and they had proven to be successful there. When Hallis had told them all of this, Robb and Theon were immediately on bored and Harwin hadn’t seemed too against it either.

 

Jon can’t let the rest of the band go to Essos without him.

 

 “Want to get back to it?” Jon asks.

 

Robb nods, swigging down his own soda.

 

They return to the family room in the Snow home where they are able to work without interruption with his mom at the restaurant, waitressing, and as Jon gets to work on the second verse – still able to feel Sansa in his arms so perfectly and able to pour that into the words – Robb gets up when he hears a knock on the door.

 

“Jeyne?” Jon hears Robb say.

 

Jon turns when Robb’s girlfriend steps into the house. It looks like she’s been crying.

 

“What is it?” Robb asks, his hands lightly running over Jeyne’s body, as if checking her for injuries. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

 

Jeyne looks at Robb and more tears pool in her eyes. She shakes her head slightly and Robb is staring at her, his hands holding onto her arms and Jon isn’t used to the expression he is seeing on Robb’s face right now. Robb looks scared and Jon admits, that Jeyne showing up at his house, in tears and looking scared herself, it _is_ scary.

 

“Jeyne,” Robb begins to say.

 

“Robb, I’m pregnant,” Jeyne tells him as quickly as she can, the words falling from her mouth.

 

And after the bomb drops, there is absolute silence in its wake.

 

Jon sits there, unable to move. Robb stands there, still holding on Jeyne’s arms, unable to move as well, and Jon has to wonder if his mate is even breathing right now. And Jeyne is visibly trembling as she begins to cry.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jeyne cries.

 

That seems to snap Robb out of it. “Why are you sorry?” Robb asks her and his arms go around her, pulling her close to him. “It was my swimmers, not yours. And you’re pregnant.” When he says the word, he begins to smile. “Jeyne, you’re pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”

 

“We’re eighteen,” Jeyne sniffles.

 

“Eighteen, schmighteen,” Robb waves that off and despite the severity of the moment, Jon nearly smiles. “We’re going to have a baby, we’re going to get married and The Direwolves are going to Essos to start becoming the biggest band in the world. One, two, three.”

 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun facts: George lost his virginity to a prostitute while the Beatles were starting out in Germany. He also got eventually deported - followed by Paul getting deported. I'm not planning on Jon and Robb getting deported though. Also, what Robb says and has the guys say in this chapter is something John Lennon and the others had said often. Thank you!

…

 

“The purpose of life is to find out ‘Who am I?’, ‘Why am I here?” and ‘Where am I going?’” – George Harrison

 

…

 

It is technically his wife’s store, but Gilly isn’t the best at keeping her books – or paying the bills – so that’s where Sam comes in. He admits that he doesn’t know much about music that isn’t jazz, but since coming to help Gilly, he’s gotten to learn a lot more and listen to a lot more – mainly because the customers blare any and everything in the listening booths.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Sam lifts his head from the paperwork he’s going over behind the counter and he automatically smiles when he sees the young man standing in front of him. “Can I help you?” Sam asks, standing straight.

 

“Yeah. I was on vacation over in Essos and I was able to catch a band there. The Direwolves. I was just wondering if you had their single here. I should have bought it while I was over there.”

 

“Uh, The Direwolves?” Sam has never heard of them before. He moves to the computer and types the band’s name into the inventory search. No matches come back and Sam frowns a little, looking back to the customer. “The Direwolves?” He asks again.

 

“Yeah. They were amazing. Probably one of the best bands I’ve ever heard. Ever. Seriously.”

 

Sam is frowning in full force now as he types in the inventory search again. Nothing again. “And you saw them is Essos? Do they have a record?”

 

“They had a single for sale. Essos’ sales tax though… I thought I could find it cheaper in Westeros.” The customer sighs heavily, disappointed. “Thanks for looking.”

 

He leaves the store, the bell tinkling after him.

 

Sam, still frowning – with confusion more than anything – returns his attention to the computer. So their music store doesn’t have anything on The Direwolves. He’ll go to the trusty internet search engine. He types them into the search bar and sees what pops up. Not much of anything from the looks of it. A little band from Wintertown in the North now playing in some club in the city of Pentos, in Essos. Someone has also posted a video. Sam is quick to click on it.

 

Four guys on a small stage, wearing matching black suits, and Sam actually finds himself holding his breath as they begin to play. A man with a guitar begins playing the harmonica as the drummer and the other two guys play. And then the harmonica stops and two of the guys with the guitars begin to sing.

 

_“Love, love me do._

_You know I love you._

_I’ll always be true._

_So please, love me do._

_Whoa, love me do.”_

“What’s that?”

 

Sam jumps in surprise when Gilly appears behind him, peering around his arm to see what he’s watching.

 

Sam pauses the video. “Have you heard of this band? The Direwolves?”

 

Gilly tilts her head slightly as she thinks it over. Sam gives his wife some time. Gilly knows a lot of bands.

 

“I haven’t,” she then shakes her head. “Who are they?”

 

“They’re giving me goosebumps, that’s who they are. Look!” Sam sticks his arm in his wife’s face. “Gilly, look! Actual goosebumps.”

 

Gilly smiles. “That’s wonderful, Sam.”

 

“It is! I’ve never heard a band that has given me goosebumps before!” Sam exclaims excitedly. “Gilly,” he turns fully to her. “The Direwolves are in Essos and I have to go to Essos so I can see them! Live!”

 

Gilly lets out a slight laugh. “Alright.”

 

Sam blinks at her. “Alright? Just like that?”

 

Gilly shrugs. “I’ve never seen you excited about _any_ music that doesn’t have at least one blaring sax. If you want to go to Essos, go to Essos and see them. The bills will still be here when you get back.”

 

Sam looks back to the video, still paused, on the computer screen. “Maybe it’s the harmonica…”

 

…

 

He wonders just how perverted this makes him. Robb and Theon – and a bit of Harwin – would not shut the hell up about Jon still having his “v card”, as Theon so eloquently calls it, and Pentos certainly doesn’t seem to have a lack of women who help with that very situation. Robb had even offered to pay – “My treat”, he had told Jon with a grin – but Jon had merely scowled at him for that.

 

Her name is Ros and she has beautiful red hair. _Not_ that that has anything to do with why Jon has brought her back to his room. She’s beautiful in general and Jon knows that it’s her job, but she seems genuine.

 

“I’m sorry,” he pants against her neck because he knows his performance was embarrassing.

 

Ros seems out of breath herself, but Jon knows that he’s just imagining it for his ego’s sake.

 

“You did fine, Jon,” Ros smiles.

 

Jon nearly cringes as he pulls his head back to look at her. She is perched on the edge of the dresser in the band’s cheap motel room and Jon is standing between her spread knees, his jeans and boxers shoved down to his knees. Not exactly how he imagined his first time to be – with a prostitute in Essos – but it’s too late to change anything about it now.

 

Besides, he’s here, in Essos and he’s with his mates and The Direwolves are playing every night. He’s eighteen and except for the not making any headway or progress in way of their band going somewhere, he’s having the time of his life – except for the nights where he’s tired and hungry and wondering if this is all worth it.

 

And he can’t wait for Sansa Stark. She’s seventeen and is now in her final year at Winterfell Academy. She has rugby games and exams and school dances to go to – and go with school boys. She’s in Westeros and even if she wasn’t – Robb is already talking about having her come to be with them once she graduates to help with things – Jon knows she just doesn’t see him like that. He’s Robb’s best mate and nothing more.

 

He doubts she thinks about him even a fraction of the time he spends thinking about her and ever since they’ve come to Pentos, he’s been trying so hard to keep himself from thinking about her twenty thousand times a day. That’s always easier said than done though considering nearly every song he writes is about her in some form or another.

 

“Fine,” Jon echoes and smirks a little. “That’s a terrible word. You know what teachers call fine? A ‘C+’.”

 

Ros lets out a laugh at that and it’s a gentle laugh; not mocking or cruel.

 

Jon pulls out of her slowly and Ros takes the condom off of him before he can.

 

“Thanks,” he says and steps back for him to pull his boxers and jeans back up. He then takes the condom and goes into the bathroom to flush it down the toilet. After washing his hands, he comes back into the room and Ros has hopped down from the dresser, putting herself back together again.

 

“You know what fine is?” Ros asks him. “Not failing.”

 

Jon smiles at that and he swears his cheeks feel a little pink at that. “Well… thank you for… that,” he gestures awkwardly towards the dresser.

 

“Here.” Ros takes a step forward and hands him a piece of paper. “My number. Just in case.”

 

“Thanks,” Jon gives her a small smile and slips the paper into his pocket. “I don’t…” He’s unsure of how to say the thoughts in his mind, but Ros smiles all the same.

 

“I get it. I’m someone else to you. Or rather, you are wishing I was.”

 

Jon looks away from her, feeling guilty that she is able to read him and his mind so clearly. Yet, he supposes it’s helpful in her particular line of work.

 

“Don’t feel bad,” Ros says and puts a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re certainly not the first to think of someone else and you won’t be the last.”

 

She leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek and Jon gives her one more small smile before going to the door, unlocking and opening it. He is immediately met with applause and he frowns at Robb, Theon and Harwin, all sitting on the floor outside the door, obviously waiting for him.

 

“There he is!” Robb grins, getting to his feet. “The man of the hour!”

 

Jon frowns at him. “Could you be anymore crass?”

 

“I think we all know the answer to that,” Robb says with a clap of a hand on Jon’s shoulder.

 

Ros smiles at them all as she steps from the room, out into the hall, behind Jon. Jon turns towards her.

 

“Do I…” He pauses. He’s already paid her before they… Should he thank her? Does one thank the prostitute they’ve paid to lose one’s virginity to? “Thank you, Ros,” he then says, not seeing the harm in it.

 

Ros gives him another kiss on the cheek and Jon can see all of his mates grinning.

 

“Can I walk you out?” Theon speaks up.

 

Ros turns to look at him, her eyes moving up and down his entire frame. She then looks back to his face with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I don’t know. Can you?” Ros asks back and then walks past them all, heading down the hallway.

 

Theon watches her go with a hand over his heart. “I think I’m in love.”

 

With that, he begins jogging after her to catch up. Robb gives Jon another grin before going into their room and Harwin smiles, clapping both hands on Jon’s shoulders, walking them both into the room.

 

The four guys have been sharing the room for the past two months, using most of the money they make each night at their gig to pay for it. Jon had been right. There’s not that much leftover for food and none of them want to ask their parents to help them out. They are determined to make it – or fail spectacularly – all on their own. Jon thinks Ros really lowered her price for him to be able to afford her tonight.

 

In the room, Robb goes to the window, sliding it open and lighting a cigarette. Harwin goes to one of the two beds and flops down, yawning, and Jon sits down on the other bed, glancing to the clock. It’s almost eight o’clock. Their nightly gig begins at nine. He doesn’t consider himself a quitter in anything – his mum raised him to never quit at anything – but sometimes, he wonders what the hell the point of this is. He loves playing and writing his own songs and performing, but he misses home. The North and Wintertown.

 

And Sansa.

 

And he wants to just grab his hair and scream with frustration for missing Sansa.

 

Robb exhales a cloud of smoke and then turns back to look at Jon and Harwin. “Hey. Where are we going, fellas?” He asks.

 

Jon and Harwin don’t say anything.

 

“Where are we going, fellas?” He asks again, a bit louder, and the room door opens again, Theon stepping back inside and hearing the question.

 

“To the top, Robbie!” Theon exclaims.

 

Robb grins. “Where’s that, fellas?” He asks, looking to Jon.

 

Jon sighs, but he smiles, too. “To the toppermost of the poppermost, Robbie,” he replies.

 

“Right,” Robb gives a wide grin. “We ready to get ready?”

 

Harwin pulls himself from off the bed. “Let’s do it.”

 

…

 

Sansa sits at her desk in her bedroom, studying for her literature test she has the next day when her laptop lets out a ding. Someone has sent her an email. Perfect timing. She was just thinking that she needs to be taking a break. She sets her book aside and wakes her laptop up from its slumber.

 

Going into her email account, she smiles the instant when she sees who’s it from.

 

Jon.

 

She had thought… well, to be honest, she didn’t know if she would be hearing from him again. She was at the airport with her family, and the rest of the other families, as they saw the four boys off as they caught their flight to Pentos in Essos and Sansa had given Jon a small, shy smile.

 

“Good luck, Jon,” she had said.

 

Jon had matched her smile with a small one of his own. “You, too, Sansa. With, um, senior year.”

 

Sansa had kept smiling and after a moment’s hesitation, she had stepped in and given him a hug. And she had closed her eyes when she felt his hands on her back.

 

She misses Robb, of course, but Robb calls often. Jeyne is living with them now. Her mother had passed away years earlier and her father travels often for his work and there’s no way Ned and Catelyn are going to allow their daughter-in-law, pregnant with their first grandchild, to be on her own for most of the time. So, Robb calls to check on the family and his wife and how her pregnancy is going.

 

She wishes she didn’t, but she misses Jon, too. But she hasn’t heard from Jon. She hasn’t expected to either. She’s Robb’s little sister. Why would she hear from Jon? She honestly thought he would have forgotten all about her.

 

She opens the email.

 

 _Dear Sansa –_ Sansa smiles just from reading the greeting.

 

_I hope this finds you well. We’ve just gotten done with playing at The Flatlands for the night and the other lads have stayed behind for a pint (or six). I was feeling too tired though and have come back to the room. I hope you don’t find it too weird that I’m writing to you. Can I be honest with you?_

“Always,” Sansa says quietly to herself.

 

_I miss home. Not just home with my mum. But Wintertown. Pentos is nice, but it’s definitely not the North. I miss my bed. I miss being able to go to the corner shop and get fish and chips whenever I damn well please. I’m having fun here. I’m writing a lot of new songs and I think the club is getting more crowded every night when we play. It might just be wishful thinking on my part though. But sometimes, I just want to hop on a plane and come home. I have to wonder if this is all worth it._

_Damn, I’m sorry for this email and whining to you. I hope you’re doing well and your senior year is going well, though knowing you, you’re probably getting all A’s._

And one B, but she’s not going to admit that. She’ll get it up to an A in no time.

 

_Robb mentioned that you might be coming to Pentos in a few weeks for fall break. It would be great to see you, Sansa. It would be great to see a piece of home._

_Take care,_

_Jon_

Sansa immediately hits the reply button, but then pauses before she can start typing her return email. She looks to the clock. It’s only seven o’clock – in Westeros – but Essos is about five hours ahead. Maybe he’s getting ready to go to bed as soon as he’s sent this email. She doesn’t want to disturb him. And yet… she feels a tug in the pit of her stomach that has come so hand-in-hand with Jon and she suddenly needs to hear his voice.

 

She goes through her contact list on her phone and as she dials his number, she gets up to close her bedroom door. She knows she doesn’t have to hide the fact that she’s talking to Jon. She just doesn’t want her parents or Jeyne or Arya to overhear and then ask _why_ she’s talking to Jon.

 

“Hey.”

 

His voice speaks into her ear and she suddenly feels too warm.

 

“Hi,” she smiles even though he can’t see it. She walks across the room to her window to push it open a crack. She kneels down in front of it so the cold night air can hit her face. “I just got your email.”

 

“Yeah… I’m sorry about that. I just was feeling melancholy tonight for some reason.”

 

“No, I’m glad. Not that you’re feeling melancholy, but that you wrote me,” she says and then swallows, the tugging in her stomach only tightening. “You can always write me.”

 

Jon is quiet for a moment and she wonders if she’s said too much or if he’s heard something in her tone and now she has made him uncomfortable.

 

“You shouldn’t have said that. Now, I’m going to be bugging you all of the time,” Jon says.

 

Sansa smiles again and she hopes he can hear it from over the phone. “I look forward to it.” She sits down on the floor with her back against the wall, feeling the cold breeze from outside rustling her hair. “So, tell me all about Pentos and this club you’re playing in.”

 

“It’s not a bad club. The Flatlands. There’s a constant smell of burnt meat in the air so that’s interesting.”

 

Sansa laughs slightly and now, she can hear Jon smiling from over the phone.

 

“And they pay us _just_ enough to make sure we don’t pass out from hunger on stage, but don’t tell my mum I’m living on peanut butter and crackers. I promised her I was eating plenty of fruit.”

 

Sansa laughs again. “But other than all of that, it’s going well?”

 

Jon is quiet for a moment. “Robb refuses to let us give up. He’s determined to get us to the top if he has to drag us. And if we _do_ get there, he’ll never let us forget it.”

 

“Glad to hear that Robb hasn’t changed,” Sansa says with a roll of her eyes.

 

“Let me hear about you though.”

 

“Oh,” Sansa feels her cheeks blush. “There’s nothing to tell. School, coming home, school again. You know. The usual.” She begins to bite her lower lip. “Oh! I’m trying out for the school play.”

 

“Yeah? Which one is it this year?”

 

“Five questions.”

 

Jon lets out a laugh that makes throat clench. “Alright. Are you auditioning to play a woman?”

 

“Really, Jon?”

 

“Who knows what Winterfell Academy is trying this year.”

 

“Yes, Jon,” she sighs heavily, pretending to be perturbed. “I’m auditioning to play a woman.”

 

“Okay. Um… let me think. Will you have to speak Shakespeare?”

 

“I didn’t know Shakespeare was an entirely new language, but yes,” Sansa teases.

 

“Are there fairies?”

 

Sansa laughs. “How did you guess?”

 

“Winterfell Academy loves their Shakespeare and there was a tragedy last year so, as tradition goes, it would be a comedy this year. Who are you auditioning for?”

 

“Hermia.”

 

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” Jon then recites, his voice quieter than it had been.

 

Sansa swears her heart stops beating for a handful of seconds. She manages to swallow the lump in her throat so she can speak again. “That’s a Lysander line,” she manages to say, just above a whisper.

 

“Yeah,” Jon says and his voice sounds a little low and thick to her ears. “Well, Lysander and Hermia, they kind of go together, you know? In the play,” he then quickly adds just in case she was thinking he meant something else. He clears his throat. “You’ll let me know how the audition goes?” He asks.

 

“I will,” Sansa promises. Her heart is beating again – beating so hard and fast, she wonders if Jon can actually hear it. “And you’ll write me again?”

 

“I will,” Jon promises.

 

…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robb's character is a version of John Lennon and Jeyne is Cynthia Lennon. I have been bracing myself for reactions to Robb's character in this story (and just for the record, I love Robb so, so much - just not this particular version of him). Sam is the Brian Epstein manager type and Dickon is the George Martin type.

…

 

“I remember, so vividly, showing up for the show, and you’d be in your ordinary clothes, and then you’d take out of your little suitcase, your suit and your shirt and put ‘em on… and then finally… your Beatle boots and you’d stand up and you looked at each other – it’s like… yeah… there we are.” – Paul McCartney

 

…

 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

 

Sam has been staring at the band on stage and he tears his eyes away just long enough to order a Sprite from the waitress before putting his attention back on the four men.

 

_“As I write this letter,_

_Send my love to you._

_Remember that I’ll always,_

_Be in love with you._

_Treasure these few words till we’re together,_

_Keep all my love forever._

_P.S. I love you.”_

The Direwolves sound even better in person than they do over a video. Sam can hardly look away from them and again, he has goosebumps on his arms. Their music is rock and pop and they’re wearing suits and Sam can’t remember ever seeing a band like them in Westeros. They’re something different; something _new_ and Gilly is always looking for something new for the store. But damn, as Sam listens, they can be so much more than just a band good to drum up some extra business. They can be _the_ business.

 

The band is playing in a club called The Flatlands – a little place and it almost has a cave feeling – low ceilings, low lighting. The stage is shoved against the back wall. There are three guitarists and one drummer and Sam notes that they seem to be all good-looking guys, too. That’s more important than people would think. More than one band has been catapulted to fame with little to none talents, but good looks on their side.

 

The Direwolves seem to have it both.

 

The song ends and the four all bow as they are met with loud applause. Sam takes a gulp of his Sprite and with slightly sweaty palms, he stands from his seat and approaches the stage as they are unplugging for the night.

 

“Hi,” Sam smiles at them. “I’m Samwell Tarly. That was an amazing show tonight.”

 

One of the young men grins at him. “Thank you. Robb Stark.” He sticks his hand out and Sam is able to casually wipe his own on his pant leg before shaking it.

 

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sam says with an incline of his head.

 

There is something about Robb Stark that Sam notices immediately. He is a handsome fellow with a head of auburn curls and a smile that is almost teasing in a way and Sam can’t be sure if the teasing is at his expense or not. Robb is obviously the front man. Sam is able to pick up on that immediately. He has a confidence that all front men in bands have and _must_ have. Charming and almost hypnotizing in a way.

 

Sam can easily imagine thousands of girls screaming his name.

 

“You’re from Westeros,” one of the other guitarists – the one with the lightest hair – speaks up. “The accent.”

 

“I am,” Sam confirms with a nod. “My wife and I own a music shop and we had a customer coming in, asking about you. I had to come over here and see you for myself.”

 

“Really?” The third guitarist, a ridiculously handsome young man with black curly hair, speaks now, his dark eyes set on Sam, obviously hardly believing it. “Someone in Westeros was asking about us?”

 

“They were,” Sam confirms with a smile. “Do you have time to speak with me?”

 

“Hell, yeah,” the light-haired man grins.

 

“My table is over there. I’ll be there when you finish packing up,” Sam says and with one more nod, he heads back to his table. His palms, once again, are sweating, and he’s going over the words he wants to say to them in his head, not wanting to mess this up.

 

The Direwolves might be a nobody band right now, but that _will_ change and Sam wants to be here when it does. He looks at them and can easily see them being one of the biggest bands this world has ever seen. What if they already have management though? They should. Is Sam stepping on someone’s toes? If they do have a manager, he’s not doing a good job, having them play this dirty club in Essos.

 

Sam stands up as they four men leave the stage and begin coming his way. He likes their look. The black suits is a good look for them. He would be sure to keep that look for them.

 

“This is Theon, Jon, and Harwin,” Robb introduces the others and Sam shakes their hands.

 

“Would you like something to drink?” Sam asks as he catches the attention of the waitress.

 

Armed with his Sprite and the four Direwolves with beers, they sit down at Sam’s table.

 

“Do you have a manager?” Sam asks, getting right to it.

 

“Hallis Mollen is our band promoter. He got us the gig here, but not a manager really,” Robb answers.

 

Sam does his best to hide his relief and growing excitement at that. He tries to act casual about it all as he takes a sip of his Sprite. “And the songs? Who writes the songs?”

 

“Mostly Jon and I,” Robb says with a hand gesturing between himself and the dark curly-haired man. “We sing some old covers, too.”

 

“I heard,” Sam says, referring to _Baby, It’s You_ and _Please Mr. Postman_. “I have a brother – a recording producer for a label.”

 

He swears all four men stop breathing as soon as they hear his words.

 

“I would like to give him a call and have him come out and see you. Dickon and I have talked about starting our own label and if he agrees with me and likes what he sees… you will be in Pentos until further notice, correct?”

 

“Yes,” Robb nods his head quickly. “We have no plans of leaving anytime soon.”

 

Harwin clears his throat then, shifting slightly in his seat, and for the first time, he speaks. “I, um, I actually wanted to speak to you guys about that.”

 

Robb, Jon and Theon all stare at him.

 

“I was talking things over with my folks and I’ve been thinking about going to university and continuing my studies…” Harwin says and then trails off when he sees Robb frowning at him, looking like he wants to throw something at Harwin.

 

“You’re certain?” Sam asks.

 

Harwin pauses and then nods. “I love these guys and I love playing in the Direwolves, but… I’ve always seen myself doing something more than playing drums. I was just trying to pick a moment to tell you.”

 

Robb, Jon and Theon continue staring at Harwin and Sam thinks it over for a moment.

 

“And this decision is definite?” Sam asks.

 

Harwin looks at the guys and then visibly swallows, but when he looks back to Sam, he nods his head. Sam pulls out his phone and types a note to himself.

 

_Find a drummer!!_

“Okay. I’ll get on that and also speak with my brother. See if he has any suggestions,” Sam says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll be in touch.”

 

…

 

Sansa turns her head away from the window to look at Jeyne, sitting in the seat next to her.

 

“Are you alright?” She asks when she sees Jeyne resting her hands on her five-month baby bump.

 

Jeyne smiles and nods. “I’ve just never liked flying and I think this little one can feel my anxiety.”

 

“We’ll be there before you know it,” Sansa promises her. “Are you excited to see Robb?” She asks though she also knows there is only one possible answer that Jeyne would ever think of giving.

 

“So, so excited,” Jeyne smiles, her cheeks stained pink at just the idea. “I hope he’s excited to see me, too.”

 

“Of course he is,” Sansa replies. “His wife is coming and bringing their baby with her. Why wouldn’t he be excited?”

 

Jeyne is quiet for a moment, as if truly thinking that over, and then shrugs. “I just…” she then stops herself and shakes her head.

 

“What?” Sansa turns more towards her. “You don’t actually think that Robb hasn’t missed you, do you?”

 

“Oh, I’m sure he’s missed me,” Jeyne says. She then looks down to her bump before back to Sansa. “There are just things about your brother and me… out of sight, out of mind.”

 

“Robb loves you, Jeyne,” Sansa tells her sister-in-law, feeling more than just a little bit confused.

 

“I know he does. He also loves a lot of other women.”

 

Sansa blinks at her, not sure what Jeyne is getting at, but really, what else could she mean? “I thought… I thought Robb’s always been faithful to you.”

 

Robb wouldn’t cheat on his girlfriend, would he? And more than that, Robb wouldn’t cheat on his _wife_ , would he? Sansa can’t believe that. Her brother may be charming and a flirt and he may be _very_ aware of those things, but still… She absolutely loves Robb. Robb is her big brother and he would never…

 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Sansa wonders.

 

Jeyne gives her a small smile and shakes her head. “You’re my friend, but Robb is your brother. I wasn’t going to put in the middle like that. Besides, I know, but I’m still with him. It’s my choice.”

 

Sansa frowns a little at that truth and it brings up a very good point. “ _Why_ did you marry him if you know…” Sansa can’t even bring herself to finish the question.

 

“Because I know he loves me. Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous after just saying that he cheats on me, but he _does_ love me. I don’t doubt that. And… and I’m always the one he comes home to,” Jeyne explains though Sansa thinks that that’s the most ridiculous explanation to anything she’s ever heard.

 

If she knew her boyfriend or husband was cheating on her, there’s no way that she would stay with him.

 

“I’m sorry I said even a hint of it,” Jeyne says. “Please. Just forget it. You were so excited to see Robb. Don’t stop being excited to seeing him. You two adore each other and what I said shouldn’t change that.”

 

Sansa looks at her sister-in-law for a moment and manages to nod her head in agreement.

 

She supposes it’s none of her business. If Jeyne knows that Robb cheats on her and stays with him – stays married to him – then who is Sansa to question what has nothing to do with her? Jeyne’s right. Sansa doesn’t want anything to ruin this visit.

 

When her parents told her the month before that for fall break from school, she could fly out to Essos to see Robb and the others if she wanted to, they would treat her to it. Arya had thrown a fit when she found out, wanting to come also, but Ned and Catelyn told her that perhaps next year – when she was a bit older and if the boys are still in Essos at that time. Her parents haven’t said anything, but Sansa knows they are silently both hoping that the Direwolves will have returned by that point. They encourage all of their children in whatever interests they want to pursue, but blowing off higher education to go play in some club in Essos might be a challenge for Ned and Catelyn to continue to support for too long.

 

Sansa can’t wait to see them all – Robb. Even Theon. Especially Jon.

 

As promised, he has written. She gets at least three emails from him a week and Sansa, in return, has been keeping him up-to-date with her own life in Wintertown. Just the idea of them being pen pals makes Sansa smile. She knows it’s doing nothing in helping her get over her impossible crush on him, but she thinks that _maybe_ she doesn’t want to get over it. Not now anyway.

 

She has begun looking forward to Jon’s emails more than many other things in her life. When he writes her and takes the time to tell her about what is happening with him in Essos, Sansa will smile to herself and read each email more than once because she knows that when Jon writes to her, he’s thinking of her.

 

Within the hour, the plane has landed at Pentos Airport and Sansa helps Jeyne stand from her seat and they disembark the plane together. Sansa gives Jeyne a smile, Jeyne matching it with one of her own, and loops her arm through hers and they make their way from their gate, following signs for baggage claim.

 

“Jeyne! Sansa!” They hear Robb shout their names and before they can even spot him in the crowds of people, he’s raced right to them and thrown his arms around both of them.

 

And then the others are there – Sansa being swept into hugs by Theon and Jon – as Jeyne and Robb continue hugging one another and Robb is whispering something to Jeyne and she is nodding her head. He then pulls back enough for his hands to rest on Jeyne’s bump.

 

“Come on then,” Theon says. “Let’s leave them alone for a bit.”

 

The three being walking, resuming the path to the baggage claim. Sansa smiles, walking between them.

 

“Still angry at Harwin?” Sansa asks, having heard from Jon’s emails to her.

 

“Hell, yes, we’re still angry,” Theon frowns. “He left us because he wants to go to school. And do you know _why_ he wants to go to school? To study and learn!”

 

Sansa gasps. “The nerve!”

 

Jon snickers from her other side. “Grenn’s a great drummer, Theon.”

 

“Allow me to be mad, Snow,” Theon says. “We wouldn’t need a great drummer if Harwin hadn’t deserted us.”

 

“So do you mean to say that Harwin isn’t a great drummer, too?” Sansa asks.

 

“A little too great,” Theon answers.

 

Sansa’s brow furrows at that and looks to Jon for clarification. He smiles a little and she tries not to look to his lips for too long; although when Jon’s lips twitch as they do in that slight smiles of his, Sansa has difficulty in looking anywhere, but his lips.

 

It seems as if Essos has been good to him. His skin is a bit tanner and he is growing a full beard – which only emphasizes the predominant lines to his jaw. Sansa wonders how she looks in his eyes. She’s been traveling all day though so she has no grand illusions of how she looks right now.

 

“Harwin is a great drummer,” Jon agrees. “And what Theon means is, he was also a bit of a perfectionist. Every beat, every bass thump, every cymbal roll. It was all very coordinated.”

 

Sansa still doesn’t understand. “Wouldn’t a band want a precise drummer?”

 

“Yes,” Jon agrees. “But a band also wants a drummer that can have a bit of fun behind the set.”

 

Sansa’s still not entirely sure that she understands so she doesn’t ask anything more about it.

 

At the baggage claim, they find her flight number and go to the appropriate carousel. The plane hasn’t been unloaded though yet and Theon excuses himself to go to the bathroom. Sansa’s heart flutters at the realization that she and Jon are alone now. She slowly turns her head to look at him, standing beside her, and she finds that he’s already looking at her. His lips twitch into that faint smile of his and Sansa smiles – almost shyly – in return.

 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jon says.

 

“You are?” Sansa asks, almost in a whisper as if she can’t quite believe that he would say that.

 

Jon nods. “I miss home and seeing you… it’s like I told you. It’s like having a bit of home here with me.”

 

 _With me_. Sansa echoes those two words in her head.

 

She quickly tries to think of something to say in return, but having gone nearly four months without seeing him and now, finding herself alone with him, Sansa admits she finds herself at a bit of a loss.

 

“I’ve missed you, too, Jon,” she’s finally able to say. “How are things going for you? Truly.”

 

“Truly? Pretty damn good,” he replies and it makes Sansa smile. “Harwin leaving was a tiny bump, but we’ve got Grenn now and he honestly fits in with us even better than Harwin had. And we’ve agreed to make Sam our manager. He and his brother are drawing up contracts and after that, Dickon is finding us a studio here somewhere in Essos for us to cut a record.”

 

“Here in Essos? Why not come back to Westeros?” Sansa wonders.

 

“Robb said that the Direwolves aren’t coming back to Westeros until we have the #1 record there.”

 

“Well, then, you’ll be home before you can miss it any more than you do now,” Sansa smiles.

 

Jon looks at her for a long moment and her stomach begins clenching and then he smiles in return. Jon is still looking at her and his smile begins to fade the longer he looks and Sansa can’t look away from him. He’s missed her and now, she’s here, with him, and she wonders if his stomach is in knots as tight as hers.

 

She jumps slightly, her attention torn away from Jon and Jon’s eyes and Jon’s lips, when Robb suddenly appears at her side, his arm dropped heavily around her shoulders.

 

“I can’t believe that the most talented actress in Winterfell Academy’s history made time to come and see her louse of a brother in Essos,” Robb gives her a grin.

 

Sansa rolls her eyes despite her cheeks feeling warm. “I’m hardly the most talented actress in the school’s history, Robb.”

 

“Not the way mum talks. And I noticed that you didn’t correct me on the louse part,” Robb says, still grinning, and Robb has always had that effect on people around him. When he grins, he can get anyone else to grin as well and now, Sansa finds herself smiling, too.

 

She sees Jeyne and Jon greeting one another, hugging, and Jon says something that makes Jeyne laugh. Sansa then looks back to Robb and she thinks of what Jeyne has confessed to her on their flight over and she can’t help, but wonder if her brother has been faithful to his wife while he’s here and she’s back there. It’s none of her business, she knows, and yet… well, do the other guys in the band know? Do Jon and Theon actually encourage it? No, Sansa can’t imagine Jon actively participating in Robb’s infidelity.  But now, with the thoughts and questions in her mind, Sansa can’t seem to shake them out of there.

 

“I’ve already told dad to record opening night and send it to me,” Robb says. “I don’t want to miss it.”

 

Sansa smiles at that and she wraps her arms around his middle. Robb grins and his arms wrap around her shoulders, squeezing her bones in a tight hug. Robb is her brother and she loves him – no matter what.

 

The carousel begins to rotate then and the first of the bags begin to circle. Sansa and Jeyne both spot theirs and Robb and Jon hurry to grab them before they pass them by. Theon returns from the bathroom, an unlit cigarette balanced on his lip, ready to be lit the instant they’re outside. Robb gives him a frown and takes it from his lip, pushing it into Theon’s chest.

 

“Not in front of Jeyne, you don’t,” Robb frowns. “Our baby isn’t coming out damaged like you.”

 

“I’ll have you know that my mum smoked for her entire pregnancy with me,” Theon says, but slips the cigarette back into the pack.

 

“Thank you for proving my point more than I ever could,” Robb says and then looks to Sansa and Jeyne. “So, we’ll take you girls to the motel, get you settled and then we’re meeting Grenn for dinner. We have a show tonight and then tomorrow, Jeyne and me are doing our thing.”

 

“Sounds good,” Sansa agrees while wondering what she is going to be doing tomorrow.

 

Jon has yet to return her suitcase to her and instead, as they begin heading for the towards that lead to the parking garage, Jon wheels the suitcase behind him and Sansa has no choice, but to keep to his side.

 

“Tomorrow, I was, uh… I mean, I don’t know if you have other plans while you’re here. Plenty to see and I would love to take you anywhere in the city you want,” Jon says, stumbling a couple of times, scratching the back of his head with the hand not pulling her bag. “But I found something in Pentos about our second week here and I would love to show it to you tomorrow.”

 

He looks to her then and Sansa’s heart subsequently jumps up and lodges into the bottom of her throat.

 

Tomorrow with Jon? Just Jon? Or will Theon and Grenn be coming as well? Sansa supposes that doesn’t matter, but at just the _idea_ of spending the day with Jon, she’s trying to remember ever hearing something better. It doesn’t matter in the least what he wants to show her. It can be his favorite garbage dump in Pentos that he wants to show her and Sansa knows that she’ll still love it.

 

“I would love that, Jon,” Sansa smiles at him.

 

She swears then that Jon lets out a sigh; almost as if he’s relieved with her response. He gives her a small smile in return and it doesn’t seem to leave his face as they reach Robb’s car or drive from the airport or head through Pentos – Jeyne and Sansa both looking out the windows at their passing surroundings – and he seems to still be smiling even twenty minutes later when they pull in front of the motel.

 

Sansa tells herself that he’s smiling and she's just not imagining it and it's quite possibly because he is looking forward to their day together tomorrow just as much as she is.

 

…


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to everyone reading and commenting and enjoying this ridiculously random story of mine. 
> 
> Just a couple of notes: While this is a story inspired by The Beatles, I will not be following their _exact_ history and some songs will be written at different times and some songs will be put on records differently than how they are in The Beatles catalog.
> 
> Also, Jon's character is a mixture of Paul and George. George became heavily influenced by Indian culture and the sitar as his music progressed.
> 
> Thank you again!

…

 

“I didn’t grow up in Liverpool. I grew up in Hamburg.” – John Lennon

 

…

 

Sansa isn’t going to say anything. She’s not a tattler. Robb and the others trust her not to say anything. At least, she knows that’s what they want. They haven’t come right out and told her not to tell their parents, but it should be one of those things that go unsaid and one of those things that don’t have to be promised. She can be a cool sister and friend.

 

But that doesn’t mean that she can’t watch them with a frown. And glancing over at Jeyne, she sees her frowning at Robb as well.

 

The four boys have all popped some sort of white tablets into their mouths that Sansa knows is definitely not Aspirin or something as innocent and Sansa wants to ask, but she doesn’t want to be a tattling little sister and she also doesn’t want to be a pestering sort of one either. But what the hell are they taking? And _why_ are they taking them?

 

“Don’t worry, love,” Robb smiles easily and comes up to Jeyne, slipping his arms around her and giving her a light kiss on her lips. “Just some uppers to help us stay awake and alert for the show. They’re harmless,” he tells her and Sansa overhears. Jeyne is still frowning though and Robb smiles before he kisses her until she’s not anymore.

 

Sansa looks to the other three – Jon, Theon, and Grenn. She’s just met Grenn earlier this evening when they all went out for a bite to eat for dinner. Knowing that their son and his band isn’t making that much here in Pentos, Ned and Catelyn have given Sansa extra pocket money to take the band out for meals.

 

“But be as discreet about it as you can,” Ned had told her. “You know how proud your brother can get.”

 

Grenn is just a little bit taller and more built than the other three with light brown hair cut close to his head and a matching beard trimmed close to his face, but under direct light, Sansa can see hints of red. Even though she’s just met a few short hours earlier, Sansa likes Grenn. He’s fun and funny and he does seem to fit in with the others more than Harwin, who had been on the more quiet side of things. Sansa has been eager to hear the new Direwolves and how they sound with their new drummer – but then she saw them all popping their uppers and now, Sansa can only think to stand there and frown.

 

Jon looks over to her and smiles. He comes towards her and then stops in front of her. “Your frown right now, you look so much like your mom,” he teases with a smile.

 

Sansa can’t help, but wince. Being called Catelyn Stark by the guy she has a crush on is definitely not something she is hoping to hear.

 

“Not that I think you’re a mom or that I look at you and _think_ of your mom…” Jon quickly tries to backtrack, stumbling over his words as he does. “I just meant…” he exhales a sigh. “You get a crease between your eyebrows when you don’t like something or you’re confused.”

 

“I do?” Sansa asks, well aware that she does, but surprised that Jon would know that as well.  

 

“Yeah…” Jon says while his cheeks look a bit more pink to her, but Sansa knows she’s more than likely probably just imagining that. “They’re harmless. I swear,” Jon echoes Robb’s earlier words.

 

“Do you really need to take them?” Sansa can’t help, but ask. “Who gives them to you?”

 

In the back of her mind, she can imagine how she sounds to Jon right now. A nag. Lame. Catelyn Stark.

 

“The manager here gets them for us,” Jon answers. “Seriously, Sansa.. they’re harmless. I promise. We just take them so we give a good show every night.”

 

Sansa wants to say something to that, but she swallows it down and bites her tongue before she can. She doesn’t want to recite facts for him taken from their high school health class and she doesn’t want to show Jon even more that she’s just some high school girl while he’s here in Essos, playing in a band.

 

She manages to give a slight nod and small smile. “Alright,” she says and Jon smiles at that.

 

Jon looks past Sansa then and she turns her head, seeing that he’s looking to the bartender, the man cocking his head to the stage. Jon nods and then looks to Robb.

 

“Time to start,” he tells him. Theon and Grenn are already gone.

 

“Right,” Robb smiles. He gives Jeyne a lip-smacking kiss. “Kiss for my baby.” He bends down and kisses her bump. “Kiss for my baby,” he says and Jeyne laughs lightly, seeming to have forgotten all about her husband taking uppers – for now.

 

Jon looks back to Sansa. “You’re going to stay for the whole show, right?” He asks.

 

“Of course I am,” Sansa replies, the crease between her eyebrows returning.

 

Jon smiles. “Good. I wasn’t sure… if you’re tired from the flight and time change-”

 

“I’m staying for the whole show, Jon”

 

She watches Jon’s smile grow a bit larger.

 

“Good,” he says again and he looks at her for a long moment and Sansa feels a fluttering in her stomach from his intense dark eyes settled on her; so focused. She wishes she had the first idea as to what he is thinking right now. He then clears his throat and with one more smile to her, and then one to Jeyne, he turns and follows the other guys’ paths to get behind the stage.

 

Sansa is well aware that Jeyne is looking at her and smiling as they settle themselves down at their table.

 

“What?” She finally has to ask.

 

Jeyne just keeps on smiling and shakes her head. “Nothing,” she answers. Sansa sighs and then looks to her friend and sister-in-law, waiting. Jeyne laughs. “I mean it, Sansa. Nothing.”

 

Sansa sighs again. “If either of us are like Catelyn Stark right now, it’s you.”

 

Jeyne just smiles at that as if that’s one of the best things someone has ever called her. Sansa silently agrees. She loves her mum and would be more than happy to grow into a woman like her someday. It’s just when Jon says she’s anything like her mum is when Sansa takes an issue with it.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a man on stage speaks into the microphone. “The Direwolves!”

 

The Flatlands is crowded that night and the announcement is immediately met with enthusiastic applause and cheers as the curtain pulls back, revealing the band on the stage with their instruments, and Sansa and Jeyne are cheering louder than anyone.

 

…

 

He’s holding her hand.

 

He, Jon Snow, is holding Sansa Stark’s hand.

 

Last night, it had just been he and Grenn in their room. Robb had gone to stay with Jeyne in her own room – naturally – and Theon had gone off with a girl he had met at the club. The Starks’ had gotten Jeyne her own room for her and Robb to have some privacy and they had gotten one for Sansa as well.

 

Despite the hour they had left the club and returned to the motel to collapse in their beds, Jon had found himself walking down the frayed carpeted hallway with an obvious bounce in his step the next morning and realized that he was moments away from actually beginning to whistle. He couldn’t stop himself though. It was nine o’clock in the morning, Jon had barely gotten six hours of sleep, but that hadn’t mattered because when he got to Sansa’s room and knocked on the door, she had answered, smiling the instant she saw him and Jon’s own smile grew.

  
And now, he’s holding her hand.

 

Pentos has trolleys and they catch the one they need that will take them where Jon wants to take her that day, standing near the back of the car, Sansa’s hands wrapped around on one of the poles and Jon’s hand wrapped around the same pole, above her hands.

 

“Are you going to tell me now where we’re going?” Sansa asks.

 

“No, not yet,” Jon just keeps on smiling. “It’s a surprise.”

 

Sansa rolls her eyes at that, but she’s smiling and she goes back to watching Pentos passing by from the trolley window and Jon watches her – and can only hope he’s doing it as casually as possible. She’s looking at everything with slightly wide-eyed fascination, trying to see everything that she possibly can as the trolley rolls through the streets of the city.

 

The wind blowing through the trolley’s openings rustles Sansa’s hair – that she’s wearing down – and a strand blows under Jon’s nose. He makes absolutely no move to brush it away. She has taken a shower before he came to knock on her door and he can smell the faintest scent of coconut – Sansa’s usual hair scent. He’s wanted to write a song about her hair, but he’s always stopped himself before he ever actually can. If he writes a song about coconut-scented hair, he knows that she’ll know it’s a song about her.

 

Sometimes, when Jon thinks up a new song, he holds his breath, nervous that this is the song that Robb will finally figure out just who Jon’s muse is, but thankfully, that hasn’t happened yet. And he’s not saying that Sansa is smarter than Robb or that Robb is thick, but Jon imagines that if she hears a song about coconut hair, she won’t have to think too hard as to who’s hair Jon is singing about.

 

The trolley comes to a stop and Jon takes hold of Sansa’s hand again, reveling in the feel of her soft skin and her fingers curling around his.

 

“Ready?” He asks.

 

Sansa bobs her head eagerly and it just makes Jon keep smiling. He never smiles this much, but it’s not really a surprise to him that he is now with Sansa holding his hand.

 

He hops down from the trolley onto the street and then turns, watching as Sansa hops down behind him.

 

“We’re here,” he says as he sweeps his other arm to the sight in front of them.

 

Sansa gasps when she sees. “A Pentoshi market,” she says, almost in a whisper as if truly awed.

 

There are open stands – and people – everywhere. They see a guitarist playing just at the market’s entrance and a monkey is walking to each person watching, holding out a little cap to collect coins. Sansa pulls him right to the small crowd gathered and she pulls out her phone, snapping a picture of the monkey. She then drops a Pentos coin into the cap the monkey is holding out to her and she takes another picture, laughing softly.

 

They stay for another moment and Jon watches her as she watches the guitarist.

 

“You ready?” Sansa asks, pulling on his hand so they step away from the crowd.

 

“We can watch a bit longer,” he tells her, but Sansa just shakes her head.

 

“You’re better and I know you won’t charge me a coin to listen to you,” she says, throwing him a smile.

 

“Well, not yet, I won’t, but who knows how big I’ll be in a few years?” Jon teases back.

 

Sansa is like him and doesn’t seem able to stop smiling. “Here. Stop.” Jon follows her instructions and Sansa then comes to stand close at his side. She hands him her phone. “Your arm is longer than mine.” She gets her camera open and flips it around so they can take a selfie.

 

Jon’s cheek is instantly on fire from Sansa pressing hers to his. They both smile for the camera and Jon snaps the picture, immediately handing it back to Sansa so she can look and approve of it.

 

“I’m going to be posting a lot of these. If that’s alright,” she says, slipping her phone back into her pocket before she takes hold of his hand again.

 

He wonders if she even realizes that she’s holding onto his hand and Jon wonders if she’s doing it because they’re in a Pentoshi market and she’s in a foreign country and she maybe a little nervous. Jon doesn’t really care for her reason for holding his hand. It just matters to him that she is and if he squeezes it from time to time, Sansa doesn’t seem to mind.

 

“Of course it’s alright. Maybe after you graduate, you can come and be our official photographer,” Jon then suggests as they walk into the market.

 

“I know Robb wants me to come here to be with you guys after graduation, but I don’t know. I mean, I would _love_ to be with the band, but…” she trails off, her eyes taking in everything from the stands they pass. She pulls him towards one that is selling all sorts of knick-knacks and she lets go of his hand so she can pick up a small silver disc. When she opens it, he sees that it’s a pocket mirror.

 

The owner of the stall comes to them on the other side and begins speaking. Sansa looks to Jon for help. She doesn’t speak Broken Valyrian – the main language of Pentos – and being here for a few months, Jon has picked up a bit, but it’s still stunted. Still, he knows more than Sansa.

 

The man names a price and Jon shakes his head before naming one of his own. The man hesitates before looking to Sansa and the small silver mirror she is holding before back to Jon, finally nodding in agreement. Sansa looks to Jon for his answer.

 

“Two Nutchapol coins,” Jon tells her and Sansa eagerly hands the amount over to the man, thanking him.

 

The man smiles warmly at her and gives her a small bow.

 

Sansa holds her mirror in one hand to her chest and Jon takes her other hand in his. “Thank you,” she smiles to Jon as they step away to go to another stand.

 

“You bought it, not me,” Jon shrugs and he wishes he had the money to buy her something.

 

All around them, there are people and music and the scents of so many different foods hang in the air. There has to be something here that he can afford to buy her with the minute amount of extra money he has. It’s supposed to technically be for food so he can eat and survive, but buying Sansa Stark a present might be actually a bit more important than sustenance if anyone asks him.

 

“What we were talking about, before, I might join you for a little bit,” Sansa continues. “But I actually think I might want to pursue acting.” When she admits it, Jon can see a blush on her cheeks as if embarrassed.

 

“That’s great, Sansa,” Jon smiles and gives her hand a squeeze and Sansa looks at him.

 

“Really?”

 

“Of course it is,” Jon keeps smiling at her. “When Robb called you the greatest actress in Winterfell Academy’s history, I didn’t think he was talking out of his ass like he usually is,” he says and that gets a laugh out of Sansa – a sound he can hear perfectly and it makes his stomach knot even amongst all of the other somewhat deafening sounds in the market that morning.

 

Sansa’s smile is soft and her cheeks are notably pink. Jon thinks he’s said the exactly right thing.

 

She catches sight of another stand and gently pulls him towards it. This one sells fresh fruit and Jon stands, watching as Sansa looks over the plums and pears. She then plucks two plums – according to the sign, two for one Nutchapol coin – and she hands the coin to the stand owner. She then turns to Jon and holds out one of the plums for him to take.

 

“Now, you don’t have to lie to your mum when you tell her you’re eating fresh fruit,” she beams at him.

 

Jon looks at her for a moment, almost stunned that she would remember him saying that he was eating fruit, but he was telling his mum that he was. It was something said weeks earlier between them, just a comment passing in their conversation, but Sansa heard and she remembered all of this time.

 

Jon reaches out and takes the plum. “Thank you, Sansa,” he says as heartfelt as he possibly can sound and Sansa has already taken a bite of her plum, smiling at him with her eyes as she chews. Jon takes his own large bite and then begin walking once again. “Can I hear a Hermia line?” He asks her.

 

“Right now?” Sansa asks, almost laughing at the request as she wipes at plum juice on her chin.

 

Jon wishes he could do that for her.

 

“Right now,” he confirms.

 

She’s quiet for a moment, thinking over what she wants to recite.

 

“Help me, Lysander, help me; do thy best  
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast.  
Ay me, for pity! What a dream was here!  
Lysander, look how I do quake with fear.  
Methought a serpent eat my heart away,  
And you sat smiling at his cruel prey.”

 

Jon is quiet for a moment, letting the words and Sansa’s voice to finish washing over him. He feels his heart pounding and he can hardly even taste the plum on his tongue anymore.

 

He begins to imagine how the plum on Sansa’s tongue would taste on his.

 

“Damn, Sansa. That was amazing,” Jon then says and her cheeks are still pink. “It was… I’m glad Robb is having your dad film opening night. I wouldn’t want to miss it.”

 

“I wish you could see it,” she reveals.

 

“If I could, I’d be in the front row on opening night,” Jon tells her with complete honesty.

 

The pink deepens and Sansa looks away; as if she can’t have her eyes look into his for any longer.

 

They pitch their plum pits into a passing trash can and he takes her hand again.

 

“My fingers are sticky,” Sansa points out to him.

 

“So are mine,” he shrugs.

 

He stops suddenly then and Sansa takes two steps forward before realizing he’s no longer with at her side.

 

She turns back to him. “What is it?” She asks him and her eyes try to look at what he’s looking at.

 

But he’s not looking at anything. He’s _hearing_.

 

“Come on,” he says and then gently begins pulling her towards the people of where he thinks the sound is coming from.

 

He sighs with relief when he finds that he was going in the right direction. There’s an older man with a long beard dyed blue – in Pentoshi fashion – and long grey hair. He’s sitting, cross-legged, on a carpet on the ground and there’s a guitar in his hands. At least, Jon thinks it’s a guitar. It’s a bit different looking than a normal guitar and the pitches are higher as the man plucks the strings.

 

Jon stands there, staring at the man, watching him play, and from the corner of his eye, he sees Sansa pull out her phone and she begins to make a video of the man playing.

 

He can’t explain it, but watching this man play and hearing this man play, not only can he feel goose bumps break across his skin, but it’s also almost familiar to him in a way and there’s no reason as to why it should be because Jon has never seen nor heard this instrument before.

 

He wonders if he’s heard it before in a dream.

 

The man finishes his song and then looks to Jon and Sansa. He smiles.

 

“That was beautiful,” Sansa tells the man though she’s not speaking in Broken Valyrian and both Sansa and the man look to Jon to translate.

 

It takes another moment for Jon’s mind to catch up and when he finally tells the man what Sansa has said, the man smiles warmly at Sansa. Jon, still not letting go of Sansa’s hand, takes another step towards the man and crouches down right at the edge of his carpet, Sansa bending over so her hand can stay in his.

 

“What is this?” Jon asks him.

 

The man continues to smile. “A sitar.”

 

…


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you very much to those who have taken the time to read, comment, bookmark and leave kudos. I have decided to no longer update chapters for this story, but I will leave the chapters up I have already posted in case anyone is ever interested in going back and reading them again. Very few seemed to be enjoying it and I think I'm just going to keep it to myself from now on. Thank you again. I'm not sure what I will be writing next. I might just be concentrating on _A Day in the Life_ for the time being.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Brad, for the tough love when it comes to this story. 
> 
> The Beatles recorded _Please Please Me_ in one thirteen-hour studio session. John was fighting a terrible cold and was drinking milk all day to soothe his throat as he sang. 
> 
> Jon and Sansa will have much more actual interaction in the next chapter. 
> 
> Thank you!!

…

 

“Oh God, this is it. A piece of plastic. And this piece of plastic was like gold, you know. You’d sell your soul. You would sell your soul to get on that little record.” - Ringo Starr

 

…

 

The day had started at ten o’clock and Sam and his brother, Dickon, have had them in the studio all day. They were all determined to get their first record done in one day – mainly for financially purposes, not wanting to have to pay for the studio for a second day if they could knock the whole thing out in one.

 

“What do you have which we can record quickly?” Dickon had asked them that morning once all arriving.

 

“Our stage act,” Robb had answered without much pause to think it through.

 

And that’s what they’ve been working on all day. One song after another, take after take, over and over, breaking for trips to the bathroom and cigarettes and for a bit of lunch and now, dinner.

 

“What are you doing?” Theon asks as they sit around, eating their sandwiches and drinking beers.

 

Dickon and Sam are in the sound booth, talking over something and Dickon playing back tracks for Sam to hear. The other four are in the studio, too tired to do much of anything except chew their food and swallow. Robb is sitting on the couch, a note pad propped against his knees and he seems to be writing something quickly.

 

Robb swallows the bit of sandwich he’s chewing. “I’m writing a letter to Jeyne.” His voice is a bit raspy – both from singing all day and he’s also fighting a cold. He’s been drinking glasses of milk and sucking on cough drops for hours now.

 

Theon peers over Robb’s shoulder and lets out a snort.

 

_Dear Jeyne –_

_I love you I love you I love you_

_I love you I love you I love you_

_I love you I love you I love you_

_I love you I love you I love you_

_I love you I love you I love you_

“Think she’ll be able to get your hidden meaning?” Theon grins.

 

“Sod off,” Robb frowns at him while giving him a shove.

 

“We better get a couple of days off after this,” Grenn mutters from his spot, lying on the floor. “I feel like my hands are about to fall off and I want to sit in the bath for the next twenty-four hours.”

 

“Maybe Sam will cut us loose and let us go back to Wintertown for a few days,” Jon thinks out loud.

 

Gods, he wants to go home. Not forever, he knows that. Just long enough to see his mum and sleep in his own bed and see his friends. And Sansa. He’s not going to lie about that. She’ll be going off to university soon and he doesn’t know when they’ll get time to see one another. As promised, Ned Stark had filmed Sansa’s opening night as Hermia in _A Midsummer’s Night Dream_ and when Robb had sent it to him, Jon admits to watching it already more times than he can count.

 

Just as he knew she would be, Sansa was – is – amazing. Every time she stepped onto the stage and delivered her lines, she _was_ the entire play.  And Jon also knows – without a doubt – that he’s never seen anything more beautiful than Sansa Stark standing on a stage, under lights, reciting Shakespeare.

 

Sometimes – too many times to count now, to be honest – Jon will go into the bathroom and turn on the water so the others can’t hear him from the other room and he’ll watch the video on his phone.

 

“I do entreat your grace to pardon me.

I know not by what power I am made bold

Nor how it may concern my modesty

In such a presence here to plead my thoughts,

But I beseech your grace that I may know

The worst that may befall me in this case,

If I refuse to wed Demetrius.”

 

They have continued their emails back and forth with one another, but the day she was accepted into Winterfell University and officially declared theater as her major, she had actually called Jon with the news rather than just write to him about it.

 

“I’m doing it, Jon,” she had said and he could hear her smile, thousands of miles and an ocean between them, and it made Jon smile, too, feeling a warmth in his chest that always happened whenever he and Sansa spoke. “I’m really doing it. I know mum and dad wish I would major in something a bit more realistic, but I can’t do that. _This_ is what I truly want to do.”

 

“That’s fantastic, Sansa. I’m so happy for you,” he had told her while wishing that he could tell her so many other things in his mind.

 

“I feel like I can do anything,” Sansa confessed. “Does that sound silly?”

 

“Not at all. And I know you can,” Jon told her, hoping she could hear how much he meant it.

 

And now, just the mention of _home_ , despite being in the recording studio for twelve hours now, Jon feels a burst of energy and he finishes his sandwich in just a couple of more bites. He stands up from his chair, brushing his hands off, and then goes to his guitar.

 

He begins to strum on the strings, playing a song that he’s been working on, but isn’t ready to show Robb yet. Maybe for their next record, he smiles to himself.

 

Theon gets up then and straps on his bass and after listening to Jon for a moment, he begins plucking his strings, adding his own notes, and Jon lifts his head to smile at him, Theon grinning in reply. And then Grenn pulls himself up, settling behind his drum set. He spins his sticks in his hands, his head bobbing up and down to what Jon and Theon are playing and then after another moment, he begins hitting a beat.

 

“What is that?” Robb asks, pausing in his letter writing to ask.

 

Jon shakes his head though. “It’s not ready yet. I’ll show you when it is.”

 

They stop playing when the door to the sound booth opens and Dickon and Sam both come out. This is their second time meeting Sam’s brother, Dickon; the first being when he had come to The Flatlands to hear them play for the first time and he had just been as eager as his brother to get a record laid down. He may want to set out on his own and have the Direwolves be the first band on his new label, but he is going to be using every contact he has ever made in this business to get this first record some traction.

 

“Alright. One more,” Dickon tells them. “Are we ready? Robb?”

 

Robb sighs heavily and pulls himself from the couch. “Yeah,” he says, but doesn’t seem to be too excited for this one and they all know why. This last song is going to shred his voice. That’s why Dickon planned on this being their last song recorded. Robb won’t be able to sing another song after they get this one.

 

“Drink some more milk,” Sam suggests, handing Robb a fresh carton.

 

They wait as Robb chugs it down and then exhales a heavy breath. “Alright. I’m ready.”

 

Jon claps a hand on Robb’s back as Robb slips his guitar strap on over his head.

 

“Robb, you let me know when you’re ready,” Dickon tells him before going back into the booth.

 

“You lads alright?” Sam asks the four.

 

“We’re good, Sam,” Theon answers for all of them. “After this, we can go back and sleep, yeah?”

 

“You fellas earned it, that’s for sure,” Sam smiles at them before going into the booth with his brother.

 

“We’re already for you, Robb, when you are,” Dickon says through the intercom.

 

Robb adjusts his guitar and then the microphone in front of him. With one more breath, he looks to Jon, Theon and then back to Grenn, before looking at Dickon and Sam through the glass. He gives a nod. Dickon hits the button and Robb begins the opening guitar notes.

 

“Well, shake it up, baby, now!”

 

“Shake it up, baby!” Jon and Theon back up.

 

“Twist and shout!”

 

“Twist and shout!”

 

“Come on, come on, come on, come on baby now!”

 

“Come on, baby!”

 

“Come on and work it on out!”

 

“Work it on out!”

 

Robb shouts and sings through the entire song and when the last note is played and sung and Dickon hits the button again, the recording light going off, Robb immediately begins coughing and hacking.

 

“Whew!” Grenn lets out a whoop and does a quick roll on the drums and crashes on the cymbal.

 

“Amazing, Robb. Amazing,” Jon is grinning at him, putting his hands on his shoulders, and Robb does his best to smile back at him.

 

“My throat feels like sandpaper,” Robb confesses through coughs.

 

“Sam! Another milk!” Theon shouts out.

 

“It sounded good?” Robb asks for only Jon to hear.

 

Jon nods and smiles. “It sounded amazing,” he assures his best mate.

 

“Hey, Robb,” Dickon speaks through the intercom from the booth. “How about one more take?”

 

Robb, Jon, Theon and Grenn all stare at him silently and after a moment of keeping a straight face, Dickon breaks out into a smile and shakes his head as he laughs.

 

“I’m just kidding. That one take is all we need,” Dickon promises them.

 

And the bit of energy Jon had felt just a few minutes ago has now completely drained from him once again and he feels as if he is about to collapse right where he stands.

 

But they did it. The Direwolves have just finished cutting their first record and who knows where this one record was going to take them?

 

That one thought is enough to keep Jon from collapsing with exhaustion. They have a record now. He is now an official recording artist. He’s not surprised that the very first person he thinks to tell is Sansa.

 

…

 

“Sansa?”

 

She is just leaving one of the lecture halls when she hears her name and she instantly turns towards where the voice had come from. It takes her a moment to find it through the other students walking to and from class, but when she sees, a smile instantly bursts across her face.

 

“Harwin!” She exclaims and then hurries towards him, Harwin smiling as well, coming her way.

 

When she gets close enough, she throws her arms around him in a hug, unable to stop herself. It’s good to see a familiar face. She may not have been as close to Harwin as she had been to Robb’s other friends, but she knows that Harwin is nothing, but nice – if a little shy and quiet – and at her second week on campus, Sansa is still getting herself acquainted with the campus and her classes. She hasn’t made that much time to make friends, to be honest – unlike her roommate who has gone out to a party every night since classes have begun.

 

“My Gods, college student already, huh?” Harwin asks her, still smiling.

 

“Second week,” she informs him proudly. “Theater.”

 

“That’s great,” Harwin says and she can tell he means it. “Robb had talked about you going over to join the guys after you graduated Winterfell Academy.”

 

“Well, some of us _are_ able to refuse Robb when he wants something, as you well know,” she says.

 

“Yeah,” he says with a slight laugh, as if embarrassed.

 

“Are you sorry you’re not with them anymore?” Sansa can’t help herself from asking.

 

Together, wordlessly, they begin walking again, side by side, and Sansa sees that they’re heading in the direction of her dormitory without discussing it. She wonders where Harwin is going and if they’re about to take him very out of his way.

 

“At first, I was,” Harwin admits. “But… I loved playing the drums and being in an actual band, but… I didn’t really want it to go past Theon’s garage, to be honest. Those guys… they breathe it, don’t they? The best thing I could have done was step aside and let in a drummer who breathes it, too.”

 

Sansa smiles. “Jon mentioned you’re in Pre-Med?”

 

Harwin seems surprised at that. “You talk to Jon?”

 

“You do, too,” she gives him a smile and he smiles back.

 

“Jon’s the best guy there is,” Harwin says.

 

Sansa keeps her complete agreement to that statement silently to herself.

 

“I talk with Theon and Robb, too, but I feel like Jon’s the only one who actually wants to hear what’s going on with me. It’s just not all talk about the Direwolves and Essos and music.”

 

“I know what you mean,” Sansa agrees.

 

She is always asking Jon questions in their emails and Jon always answers each one, but then he peppers her with just as many as to what is happening in her life. She’s not sure why she’s always surprised when he does, but she can’t help, but be. She would think that a typical boy, living some rock-and-roll life, cutting their first record, wouldn’t care much about a university freshman and what is going on in her life – boring in comparison.

 

But she should know by now that Jon isn’t some typical boy.

 

“I hope to be an ophthalmologist,” Harwin answers her initial question. “Eye,” he then clarifies before Sansa can ask; knowing that she is about to. “My dad is an ophthalmologist and hopefully, we can have a practice together.”

 

“That’s great, Harwin,” she smiles and hopes that he can tell she means it.

 

Harwin shrugs, looking embarrassed again. Sansa finds it a little cute, to be honest – the way his cheeks turn a faint pink and his hand rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not rock star,” he says.

 

“Few things are,” Sansa says with a light laugh and Harwin turns his head, smiling at her. She feels a pull in her stomach then that she hasn’t felt towards another boy in so long; not since she turned thirteen and opened her eyes to just how cute her brother’s best friend was.

 

“Robb and Jeyne had their baby, yeah?” He switches the subject.

 

“Yes!” She says, always happy at just the thought of her adorable nephew.

 

She stops walking and Harwin stops walking with her so she can pull her cell phone from her bag and unlocking it, she then pulls up her pictures. She has no less than two dozen of Jack Stark.

 

“He looks like Robb,” Harwin smiles, looking at one of Robb holding Jack in the Stark’s backyard.

 

“Spitting image, it’s a bit frightening,” Sansa agrees.

 

It had taken Robb three days to get home from Essos after Jack was born. Sam had the guys on some small tour of Essos, promoting their first album, and Robb hadn’t been able to get away sooner than that. Sansa had been furious on behalf of Jeyne, knowing that Jeyne would never be angry with Robb herself, and both Ned and Arya had been just as angry. Catelyn had been the one to calm them down again, saying that being that way wouldn’t help Jeyne with the labor and a newborn and it should be all about Jeyne right now. And it had been – Jeyne and then Jack when he arrived and by the time Robb finally got back to see his wife and meet his new son, it did no one any good to still be angry.

 

Harwin hands Sansa’s phone back to her with a smile and they begin walking once again.

 

“Do you even need to go in this direction?” She finally asks when her dormitory is in sight.

 

Harwin hesitates and his cheeks are pink again. “No, but I wanted to walk you. I… I always fancied you a bit, if I can be honest, and seeing you just now… on this entire campus with all of these people… I figured it was time I stop footing around and just go for it.”

 

Sansa is stunned into silence. Harwin has liked her? She’s had no idea. Absolutely none. Then again, why would she know? It wasn’t as if she could see any boy who isn’t Jon Snow over the past few years.

 

But that doesn’t matter anymore because Jon Snow isn’t here and even if he was, he has already showed her that he looks to her only as Robb Stark’s younger sister and not much more than that.

 

 _Stop footing around_ , Harwin’s words repeat in her mind. She’s liked Jon for years and never grew enough courage to ever tell him that and now, he’s in Essos and she’s here, in university in Westeros, and Harwin’s words hit her in the chest. Yes, it is time she stop footing around. Her crush on Jon has been stuck in neutral this whole time, not going anywhere, and seeing Harwin again, he’s right. On this whole campus, among all of these people, they saw one another and that must mean more than she would ever initially think if Harwin hadn’t just said those words.

 

Jon is out there, living his dream, and she’s here and it’s about time she start living her life without having it so intertwined with Jon Snow and the Direwolves.

 

“I’m glad you did,” Sansa smiles up at him softly, feeling shy herself all of a sudden, and Harwin smiles, too. He really is quite handsome, Sansa thinks to herself, and a handsome boy here at university with her, who she can actually see and spend time with, that seems to be exactly what she needs right now.  

 

…


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'll Be Back" is actually a John Lennon song, but I'm making it Jon's - for reasons. As I've mentioned before, I am changing around the Beatles catalog. Also, if you get the chance to watch some Beatles interviews, do it. They are hilarious in their snarkiness. Thank you, as always, for reading and enjoying this story!

…

 

“Unless you’re careful, you can be successful and unsuccessful at the same time.” – Paul McCartney

 

…

 

“Now, we have just a few more minutes,” Mrs. Crane, Sansa’s Acting I Foundation professor, states as she glances at the clock on the wall before back to the class. “I want you all to take this that I’m handing out and read the quote I’ve printed on them. Who can tell me what play this is from?”

 

The papers are handed back and Sansa takes hers, her eyes instantly scanning the quote in the middle of the page. She almost breathes with relief when she finds that she does know what play it comes from. Mrs. Crane is her favorite professor already and Sansa has yet to speak in class. She wants to make a good impression on the woman and has been waiting for that opportunity.

 

Mrs. Crane sits on top of her desk, her legs crossed, her back perfectly straight, and she clears her throat.

 

“ _You arranged everything according to your own taste, and so I got the same tastes as you – or else I pretended to_ ,” she reads. “What play is that from? Anyone?”

 

Sansa looks around and sees that no one else is raising their hand – most seeming to be staring down at the paper as if the answer will magically appear while the rest seem to be staring at the clock, waiting for the end of class to finally arrive.

 

Sansa looks back to Mrs. Crane at the front of the class and slowly, she raises her hand.

 

Mrs. Crane sees her and smiles. “Yes. Sansa, please.”

 

Sansa is silently pleased that she knows her name considering how quiet she’s been. “It’s from “A Doll’s House” by Henrik Ibsen.”

 

“Excellent,” Mrs. Crane smiles and Sansa can’t help, but smile a little, too. “Now, who can tell me who Henrik Ibsen is?” Her eyes scan over the students and Sansa looks as well.

 

Again, no one is raising their hands.

 

“Alright, who can tell me who Henrik Ibsen is and bonus question, who can tell me what “A Doll’s House” is about?” Mrs. Crane asks.

 

Sansa hesitates for another moment before she, again, raises her hand.

 

Mrs. Crane smiles at her. “Please,” she gestures her hand as if to give Sansa the floor.

 

“Um, Henrik Ibsen was a Norwegian playwright in the 1800s and “A Doll’s House” is about a seemingly typical housewife who becomes dissatisfied with her condescending husband.”

 

“Excellent, Sansa!” Mrs. Crane exclaims and Sansa feels her cheeks grow red. “And to all of those who were guessing that this is our first play of the year that we’re reading, you’re right! So, before the next class, I want you to read through the play once just to make yourself familiar with it. It begins on page 520. We will be far more thorough with our readings in class, but for now, take your book, blast your music, have the television on and just read the words. Don’t even really try to understand it. _Just_ read it. Introduce yourself to the text. Okay?”

 

Mrs. Crane looks back to the clock before looking back to the class.

 

“That’s it,” she smiles. “See you next week.”

 

Everyone practically leaps out of their seats, gathering their things, eager for the weekend to begin. Sansa moves a bit more slower until she’s the only one remaining. Mrs. Crane is now standing behind her desk, gathering her own things, and she lifts her head when she hears Sansa walking up the aisle towards the door. Mrs. Crane instantly smiles when their eyes meet and Sansa smiles shyly in return.

 

“Excellent job today, Sansa,” she commends her.

 

“Thank you,” Sansa says, hugging her thick drama textbook to her chest. “I, um, I just wanted to say that I’m really looking forward to this class for the rest of the semester.”

 

“I’m so happy to hear that. Have you already read “A Doll’s House”?”

 

Sansa shakes her head. “Just Nora’s monologue from the third act. I took an acting workshop one summer while I was younger and we all pulled famous stage monologue’s from a hat. That was mine.”

 

“Are you excited to be reading the play in full?” Mrs. Crane asks.

 

“Oh, yes,” Sansa nods quickly. “Very much so. There’s this moment in the play… I’ve watched the clips online and there’s this moment where Nora’s husband calls her a “caged song bird”. It’s always in that moment where I feel completely connected to Nora.”

 

Mrs. Crane’s smile softens but remains on her face. “Let me see if I can guess. Parents who wish you would pursue something other than becoming a stage actress?”

 

Sansa pauses, feeling her cheeks blush. “Yes. They support me, but they’re just… well, my brother moved to Essos and is currently touring with his rock band and now me… They’re still crossing their fingers for one of my younger siblings to suddenly dream of becoming a lawyer.”

 

Mrs. Crane lets out a laugh. “That sounds familiar. Well, I’ve yet to see you act or hear your readings, but I’ve been involved in theater long enough to have a feeling for this sort of thing and I very much hope that you won’t drop out to enter law school.”

 

Sansa is still smiling when she leaves the building a moment later, stepping outside and instantly seeing Harwin waiting for her, sitting on the steps and looking at something on his phone. Sansa practically skips to him and bounces down to sit next to him.

 

“Hey,” Harwin smiles as soon as he sees her and he leans in, giving her a quick kiss. “Good class?”

 

“The best,” Sansa nods, still smiling. “My professor already sees promise in me.”

 

“That’s amazing, Sansa,” he says warmly and she blushes.

 

“How was your exam?” She asks.

 

“I think it went alright. Someone’s flashcards might have saved me,” he says, nudging her, and Sansa just keeps smiling and lets out a laugh.

 

“Never doubt my flashcards again,” she quips.

 

“Never again,” Harwin promises. Sansa leans in this time and gives him a kiss. “I want to show you something. Unless you’ve already seen it?” He wonders and Sansa shakes her head just because she has no idea what he’s referring to.

 

He looks back down to his phone and clicks on a video before handing the phone to Sansa.

 

She smiles once she sees Robb and Jon sitting with Sam at a table, a few reporters in front of them.

 

_“So, do you think Grenn is the best drummer in the world?” One reporter asks._

_Jon smiles and exhales smoke from the cigarette he’s smoking._

_Robb shakes his head. “Grenn isn’t even the best drummer in the Direwolves.”_

Sansa laughs when she hears her brother’s answer and then sighs. “I miss them so much,” she says.

 

She does her best to not keep her eyes solely on Jon – especially when she’s sitting next to Harwin. He looks good though – wearing the Direwolves’ black pants, white shirt and black tie. He has shed his black jacket and his shirt sleeves are rolled to his elbows. And she certainly makes sure she’s not looking at his arms or the way his fingers hold his cigarette or the way he sometimes lifts one to scratch at his beard.

 

Despite the tour and despite her classes, both have found time to continue emailing one another back and forth – telling everything that is happening in their lives. Shows and interviews and writing new songs with Robb whenever they return to their rooms at night. Classes and plays and homework… and Harwin.

 

She had hesitated in telling Jon about Harwin, but she finally had because… well, why shouldn’t she? She and Jon tell each other nearly everything and they’re friends and her new relationship is something she’s excited about it. Harwin is sweet and smart and he’s exactly what she needs right now. He’s experiencing the university life the same time she is and they study together and moan about professors together and Sansa has found that she really likes him. And since she considers Jon a good friend, why wouldn’t she tell him that she’s now dating someone they both know?

 

Of course, that was before Jon went four days without responding. Sansa then began panicking that telling him about she and Harwin dating was some huge mistake, but then she stopped and forced herself to think about it. _Why_ was telling Jon some huge mistake? He _is_ on a tour right now and is probably just too busy and four days went without a response simply because he hasn’t had the time to respond.

 

But then, he had _finally_ replied just the day before.

 

_“I’m really happy for you, Sansa. Harwin’s a great guy. And if he’s ever anything BUT great to you, you make sure that I’m the first you tell. I’ll handle it,” he wrote._

 

“They might be able to come home for a little bit,” Harwin says, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Jon mentioned that their tour is just about done and he said that they might be able to unwind.”

 

“That doesn’t mean they’ll unwind here,” Sansa points out. “And maybe that’s not a bad thing.” She sighs again. “I was so happy and excited to come here, to university, because for so long, I was such a part of Robb and his friends and the band, but here… I’m able to be _me_. Does that sound awful of me? Of course I would be so happy to see them all. I’m just nervous, I suppose, that I’ll fall right back into being Robb’s sister and Direwolves groupie and nothing more.”

 

“You were never a groupie, Sansa,” Harwin tells her and he reaches his hand over, slipping it between both of hers and Sansa holds onto it. “You are a friend who loves the music. That’s different. And the reason Robb wanted you to come join the band after you graduated wasn’t because you were a groupie. It’s because you’re his sister and everyone knows that you have a head for logistics and that sort of thing.”

 

Sansa looks at him. Campus is thinning out as the weekend has officially begun and it is growing quiet. Harwin and Sansa remain sitting on the steps though. They don’t have any plans except going to see a movie tomorrow night. Harwin has another exam next week he has to study for and Sansa wants to dive right into “A Doll’s House” for class.

 

She likes that though. She and Harwin both understand that studying comes first and going to parties or getting drunk comes after that. There’s no pressure when it comes to Harwin and being the cool college girl. Sansa can stay in on a Friday night and read for class or work on a paper and Harwin completely understands – probably because he’s doing the exact same thing.

 

She likes that her relationship with Harwin is simple. She and Harwin are moving in the exact same direction at the moment. They are students. That is their job. And if anything _did_ happen with Jon… they’re just too different right now. Sansa wants to go to university and study and hopefully, someday, act and Jon is playing concerts every night. They’re just on two completely different paths.

 

Sansa shakes her head now at Harwin’s comment. “They don’t need me anymore. They have Sam now.”

 

Harwin looks down to their joined hands and he begins to rub his thumb in circles on the top of her hand. “I can’t imagine someone ever not needing you, Sansa,” he tells her.

 

Sansa feels a clench in her stomach at his words, truly touched and flattered by such a sentiment, and she lifts one of her hands to his cheeks, tilting his face up again, and they both smile before she leans in and kisses him softly on the lips.

 

…

 

_“You know, if you break my heart, I’ll go._

_But I’ll be back again._

_‘Cause I told you once before goodbye._

_But I came back again._

_I love you so, oh._

_I’m the one who wants you._

_Yes, I’m the one who wants you._

_Oh, ho, oh, ho, oh.”_

“I like that,” Lyanna smiles once Jon pauses to lean forward and write the words down on the paper he has spread out on the coffee table.

 

“Thanks,” Jon smiles, too, and then resumes plucking on his guitar strings, figuring out the next part.

 

He supposes all he has to do is think back on Sansa’s emails from the past few weeks – how at first, Harwin’s name would only be mentioned once or twice and then that number steadily grew until Sansa said that they are now dating. Jon should have seen it coming, but that still didn’t stop from her words punching him right in the gut as soon as he read them.

 

He’s tried to tell himself that it doesn’t matter. Sansa’s in Westeros, in Wintertown, going to Winterfell University, and he’s in Essos, touring and promoting the Direwolves’ album that has steadily been climbing the Essos’ music charts and giving more exposure to the Direwolves; the kind of exposure they’ve all dreamt of having for both the band and themselves.

 

It’s such a high to get up on stage and start playing a song and having the audience scream and sing along. He and Robb have written more than one song that people actually like and like it enough to actually memorize it. Jon can’t imagine himself ever getting over that feeling of awe.

 

So while he’s doing that, Sansa’s studying and going to school and they’re just too different right now. Maybe they’ve always been too different. Maybe, subconsciously, he’s always known that and that’s why he’s never made a move on her. Maybe it wasn’t just because she is Robb’s sister and he had convinced himself that Sansa had no interest in him whatsoever. Even if she _had_ had interest in him, they wouldn’t work. Two people who are living such different lives can’t possibly work.

 

And it doesn’t even matter now anyway because Sansa is dating Harwin and Jon can’t even hate the guy for that because Harwin saw Sansa and made a move and Jon can be jealous of hell for that – and he is – but he knows Harwin and he likes Harwin and he can’t hate him.

 

After finishing the promotional tour for _Please, Please Me_ in Essos, Sam had given them some time off. Two weeks – and mainly it is for Jon and Robb to write the songs for their next album. While _Please, Please Me_ got some exposure in Westeros, Robb is determined to get a #1 hit here. Until then, according to Robb, the only time they are coming back to Westeros is on breaks like this. He doesn’t want to come back until they have a #1 hit everywhere in the known world.

 

Jon is so glad to be back in Wintertown, back at home with his mom. He’s able to sleep in his own bed and get fish and chips whenever he damn well pleases and he and Robb are getting so much writing done. He’s only seen Sansa one time – she’s home for break from Winterfell University – and they had hugged when they first saw one another again, but the rest of the Stark family was there, all asking questions and wanting to hear everything happening in Essos and Jon hadn’t been able to talk with Sansa like he truly wanted to.

 

The doorbell rings and Lyanna gets up to answer it, bending down and kissing Jon’s head as she passes. She’s quite happy to have him home, too.

 

Jon remains sitting, playing the guitar and pausing to write words down while thinking of more. He can hear his mum talk in the hallway and he just assumes it’s Robb. He promised he, Jeyne and Jack would come by after taking Jack to the park. For the time being, the guys are able to go anywhere in Wintertown without being stopped and recognized. They’re still just some guys from Wintertown, as they always have been, where as in Essos, it is getting harder to go out for just something to eat without the word getting out and suddenly, dozens of fans are there, wanting pictures and autographs. It’s great, of course, but at the same time, Jon still loves the near-invisibility that comes with being home.

 

“Jon, you have a visitor,” Lyanna smiles before stepping aside, revealing who it is.

 

“Sansa,” Jon says, his eyes landing on her, and she gives him a small smile.

 

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she says.

 

“Not at all,” Jon shakes his head and quickly stands up, setting his guitar carefully aside. “It’s good to see you,” he then reminds himself to say.

 

“Would you like anything to drink, Sansa?” Lyanna asks.

 

“Oh, no, thank you, Ms. Snow. I just came by because I hope to kidnap your son,” Sansa says, looking back to Jon and giving him another smile.

 

“He is all yours,” Lyanna smiles and then with a look towards Jon that Jon can’t necessarily understand, she excuses herself to go into the kitchen.

 

“Where are you kidnapping me to?” Jon asks as he sits down on the sofa again to tug on and lace his boots as quickly as he can, not knowing whether they’re on a time restraint or not.

 

“I can’t tell you that. It ruins the surprise,” she smiles.

 

Jon stands up again and looks at her.

 

It must be windy out. Her long, red hair is down that day and windblown and her cheeks are pink from the temperature outside. And Gods, she looks beautiful.  He nearly asks her if it’s going to be just the two of them or if anyone else – namely Harwin – will be joining them, but he swallows the question down. He doesn’t want to make himself too obvious, and besides, he reminds himself. He and Sansa just aren’t on the same path right now and there’s no reason to try and force on onto the other’s path if that’s where they’re not meant to be.

 

They can do this. They can be friends. _He_ can be her friend. This is better than forcing something that just won’t work right now and screwing everything up to the point where they can’t even be friends. He’ll take Sansa as a friend. Of course he will. No problem.

 

…

Harwin.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love how this chapter turned out and I hope you love it, too! Thank you to those who are reading, commenting and loving this story as much as I love writing!

…

 

“Look, guys, if you’re just going to stare at me, I’m going to bed!” – Elvis Presley to the Beatles when they met, August, 1965

 

…

 

“Can you tell me _now_ where we’re going?” Jon asks with a slight laugh.

 

They are walking down the sidewalk, Sansa’s hand over his eyes so he can’t see where she’s leading him and of course, he trusts her, but that still doesn’t stop him from fearing that he’s about to walk into a lamppost or fire hydrant at any second.

 

“Patience,” Sansa answers him with her own laughing tone. “We’re almost there, I promise.”

 

With his eyes covered, he can still hear – obviously – and it’s quiet wherever they are. It’s a weird night to be out, he supposes. Tuesday and all and he knows Sansa’s class schedule by heart so he knows that her first class on Wednesdays is at nine o’clock and he begins to feel guilty that she’s taking him out. His schedule now, he really doesn’t seem to wake up until seven o’clock at night while he knows that that’s around the time that Sansa returns to her dorm room and starts to unwind from the day.

 

“Sansa, we don’t-” he begins to say.

 

“We’re here!” Sansa’s announcement cuts him off and removes her hand from his eyes, Jon blinking a few times before focusing on the building in front of him. “It opened a few weeks ago and I think you’ll like it.”

 

It’s a bar – _The Twist_ – and from what Jon can see of inside, the entire thing is in dark woods with low lighting. He’s pretty sure that some specialty fabric store he never paid attention to use to be here.

 

“Is this okay?” She asks.

 

Jon looks away from the building’s front to look at Sansa. He gives her an easy smile and nod. “It looks great,” he assures and Sansa’s smile somehow manages to brighten even further.

 

It feels, to him, that he hasn’t seen Sansa smiling at him for months now – and then he realizes that that’s true. They email each other back and forth constantly – whenever he has the moment to spare – and he’s always anxious when he opens his inbox and sees that there is a response from her, waiting for him to read. Even with her dating Harwin, Jon wants to know everything going on in Sansa’s life. He wants to keep being as much a part of it as he can; as much a part of it as she wants him to be.

 

Deep down, he can’t help, but wonder if she and Harwin have already tried this place out for themselves – if that’s when Sansa knew that Jon would supposedly like this place, too – but that’s not really a question he wants to get an answer to. Ever.

 

Inside, it’s not that crowded and he and Sansa sit at a heavy wooden table against one wall. A waitress seems to appear right away and Sansa glances at Jon before back to the waitress.

 

“Two pints of the dark stout on tap and one jumbo pretzel with the mustard dipping sauce,” Sansa orders and when she turns back to Jon, he’s smiling at her and Sansa sees it and smiles in return.

 

“You’re right. I do like this place,” he says.

 

“So…” Sansa says, still smiling as she takes off her coat and unwinds her scarf from around her neck.

 

“So...” Jon echoes with a grin, taking off his own coat.

 

“Tell me everything.”

 

“Everything?” He isn’t sure what she means.  

 

“Yes!” She exclaims. “Robb’s already told us and I can’t believe you haven’t told me. The television show in Essos and you’re making another record and Sam’s getting you signed officially with KL Capital Records? Jon! How could you not tell me? We tell each other pretty much everything.”

 

Jon feels his lips twitch a little, amused. “Well, I didn’t tell you about the television show because it’s a television show in _Essos_ and you probably won’t be even able to find a station here that shows it.”

 

“The internet, Jon,” Sansa says and she seems to want to roll her eyes, but she refrains. “I already have it marked in my phone to pop a reminder up when you’re on. _The Liomond Lashare Show_ ,” she then states.

 

Jon can’t help, but stare at her across from him. He knows Sansa will always support the band. That’s just who she is and what she does, but Gods, hearing her be so happy for any kind thing happening in his life… Sansa Stark makes him feel warm all over; like he someone’s who really and truly important to her.

 

“And I didn’t tell you about the next record because Robb and I are still finishing up the songs to go on it. And I didn’t tell you about KL Capital Records because Sam is _getting_ us signed. Key word. It hasn’t happened yet,” he says,

 

The waitress appears with their two pints of beer and their giant soft pretzel on a large plate, setting everything down between them. Jon smiles at Sansa as she rolls her eyes, sighing impatiently with him.

 

“You’ve never been this difficult before, that I can remember,” Sansa muses. “Being some big, famous rock star has obviously changed you,” she then teases and Jon catches the way the waitress looks at him when she overhears what Sansa has said, obviously trying to figure out who he is.

 

Jon just takes a sip of beer, keeping his eyes on Sansa as she rips a piece of pretzel and the waitress leaves them then to return to the bar.

 

“Well, tell me about the record deal,” Sansa requests.

 

He shrugs and pulls himself off his own bit of pretzel. “Sam and Dickon want to start their own label, but that takes time and money. King’s Landing Capital Records’ office over in Essos has our record and apparently, they’ve told Sam that they love it.”

 

“Jon,” Sansa says his name quietly and Jon lifts his eyes from the pretzel. “That’s amazing. Why aren’t you more excited?”

 

Jon hesitates as she looks at him with her blue eyes settled intently on him and he finally manages a shrug. “It still doesn’t feel real to me, I suppose. The tour in Essos, hearing people screaming for us and knowing the words to all of our songs, I love every single second of it. But sometimes, it still doesn’t feel like my life. Most times, it feels like I’m watching someone else live it.”

 

He hasn’t told anyone else that – not even Robb even though he tells Robb nearly as much as he tells Sansa, but this is one thing, Jon knows, that Robb will never understand. This life with the Direwolves right now, everything that is happening to them, this is the only thing Robb has ever wanted in his entire life. And Jon has, too, but he has always lived with a sense of reality; that it might not ever happen. How many guys are out there, playing in bands and trying to make it?

 

“You deserve this, Jon,” Sansa tells him quietly, her pint glass on the table, her two hands curled around it.

 

“I just write songs, Sansa,” he shrugs. “It’s not like I’m…” he is able to stop himself before saying what was poised on his tongue just then.

 

_It’s not like I’m becoming an ophthalmologist or anything._

Rock star is great, but it’s not doctor and isn’t that what girls want? Yes, they want the rock star for a while, but eventually, doesn’t that rub thin and they want something else? Something more… _stable_?

 

He doesn’t say those words, but that doesn’t mean the words aren’t in his head.

 

Is that what Sansa wants?

 

Jon asks himself the question, but he already knows. All Sansa has ever wanted to be – besides an actress on a stage somewhere – is a wife and a mother and he doubts she ever imagined having a family with a man who’s always away, recording and touring and seeing to the fans and the music first and foremost. He sometimes wants to ask Jeyne how she handles it with Jack and Robb always being gone, but he always stops himself. It’s not his place to ever ask his best mate’s wife that and even if it was, he doesn’t know if he would still ever ask it because he doesn’t actually know that Jeyne _is_ handling it.

 

“You write _amazing_ songs,” Sansa corrects him. “And what would a world without music be like? Not one I would ever want to live in.”

 

That gets a small smile out of Jon and Sansa smiles, too. They both take sips from their pints at the same time and then tear another section each from the pretzel.

 

“So tell me about you,” Jon says, desperate to move the conversation off of him and onto her. He would much rather talk about her any and all of the time. “When is this play going to be?”

 

“It’s not going to have actual show dates,” Sansa shakes her head and then pauses to take another sip of her pint. “It’s more like… a one night only open house workshop and we’re not putting on the whole play. Just different scenes so we can practice our acting and Mrs. Crane will be on stage with us. Our family and friends are just allowed to come and watch if they really want to sit through something as boring as that.”

 

“It won’t be boring.” It is now his turn to correct her. “If you’re up on stage, acting, it will never be boring, Sansa, and the way you’ve gone on and on about this Nora part, I can tell how much this role means to you. Are you parents going to be there?” He asks and then looks at her as he takes a sip of his own pint.

 

She nods, helping herself to more soft pretzel. “They will be. I think that maybe that’s why I’m more nervous about this than I probably should be. This will be my chance to show them that me wanting to be an actress, it’s not a mistake.”

 

“Of course it’s not a mistake, Sansa,” he is quick to assure her. “You’re amazing and your parents already know that. When is this one night only open house workshop?”

 

She smiles. “In a couple of months. You’ll probably be recording your next record,” she says, only half-teasing because this is what he and the other guys do now. They record their songs and then go on tours.

 

“I don’t care. You give me a date and I’ll be there. I promise. I already missed _A Midsummer’s Night Dream_ and I’m not going to miss this one, too,” Jon promises her.

 

Sansa stares at him for a moment, as if she’s unsure of what to say, and Jon admits that he’s unsure of what he wants to _hear_ from her. He wonders if it would be appropriate to bring her flowers in congratulations for the workshop he already knows is going to be a success or will that be stepping on Harwin’s toes? Jon knows what kind of guy Harwin is and he’s the kind of good guy who will bring his girlfriend flowers to congratulate her. Jon can’t bring Sansa flowers, too, but maybe he can bring something else. What, he has no idea, but he has a couple of months to think about it.

 

“I would love if you would be able to make it, Jon,” Sansa then tells him.

 

“I’ll be there,” Jon readily promises without missing a beat.

 

Why would he miss a beat when seeing Sansa act on stage seems like the only thing he wants to do?

 

…

 

After walking Sansa home and seeing her safely to her front door, and by the time Jon gets himself back home, his mom is in her bedroom, asleep. It’s her night off from the restaurant and Lyanna likes to rest up on those nights when she doesn’t have to stand for hours behind a hostess stand. He can’t wait until he’s making money where he can actually take care of her and she can quit that restaurant once and for all.

 

Taking his guitar and notebook, Jon heads into the basement so he won’t disturb her and he settles himself down onto the lumpy couch that he and Robb have written more than one song while sitting there, playing their guitars.

 

And after an hour, Jon thinks he has something. He hums it and then plays and sings it back to himself.

 

_I’ll pretend that I’m kissing,_

_The lips I am missing,_

_And hope that my dreams will come true._

_And then while I’m away,_

_I’ll write home every day,_

_And I’ll send all my loving to you._

 

…

 

Sansa doesn’t hear her roommate. Rather, she sees her and when Margaery Tyrell’s face appears right next to her head, Sansa leaps in her chair and yanks her ear plugs out.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake up,” Sansa explains because Margaery had been sleeping – at two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon because after living with her for a few months now, Sansa realizes that that’s all Margaery seems to do. She certainly doesn’t seem to study and if she does go to class, Sansa has noticed that she goes without a book bag. She sleeps during the day and then out to some party at night.

 

Sansa wonders if it’s possible to get a single next year. It’s very hard to rehearse lines for class when one has to do so at a whisper and emote properly while trying not to wake one’s roommate.

 

Or maybe she and Harwin can get something together…

 

“What is this?” Margaery asks, looking to Sansa’s laptop screen, still leaning in close.

 

“Oh. It’s my brother’s band. The Direwolves.”

 

“They’re on _The Liomond Lashare Show_?” Margaery asks. Sansa must look surprised because Margaery looks to her and gives her a smile. “It’s the biggest show in Essos.” With that, she turns and drags her own desk chair over so she can sit next to Sansa.

 

Sansa begins the video once again and the two girls continue to watch the clip loaded onto the show’s main website. Jon was right. Sansa had been unable to find the show anywhere and she hadn’t been able to find a livestream anywhere either. At least there are clips. And maybe the guys will be given a tape.

 

The guys are wearing their black suits, white shirts and black ties and Jon is standing at his own microphone with Theon and Robb standing at the other and Grenn is playing with his brushes rather than his sticks. Sansa personally loves when they play this song even though it’s a cover and not an original of theirs. Still, she understands why Sam decided to have the guys play it. It brilliantly shows off not only Jon’s voice, but the way all of the guys’ voices harmonize while singing.

 

_“A taste of honey,_

_Tasting much sweeter than wine._

_I dream of your first kiss,_

_And then I feel upon my lips again._

_A taste of honey,_

_Tasting my sweeter than wine._

_I will return, yes, I will return,_

_I’ll come back for the honey and you._

_Yours was the kiss that awoke my heart,_

_There lingers still, though we’re apart._

_That taste of honey,_

_Tasting much sweeter than wine._

_Oh I will return, yes, I will return,_

_I’ll come back (He’ll come back),_

_For the honey (For the honey),_

_And you.”_

“What is their band called?” Margaery asks once the band finishes the song and the live studio audience – live at the time – explodes into cheers and Sansa smiles as the guys all bow simultaneously.

 

“The Direwolves,” Sansa clicks off that clip and goes to find another. “They released a record in Essos, but it wasn’t released here, and they just finished their tour over there, too. They’re going to be working on a second soon and hopefully, that one _will_ be released in Westeros.”

 

She understands Sam making that decision as well. He had wanted to gage Essos’ reaction and acceptance of the Direwolves before seeing if there would be a point on introducing them to the rest of the known world. There are rock bands, obviously – of course there are – but the Direwolves have a sound entirely their own and sometimes, the world just isn’t ready for some new and different sound.

 

“Ohhhh, he’s a hottie,” Margaery says as the next clip begins.

 

Sansa looks to Margaery, staring at Robb, but she doesn’t say anything, fighting to not roll her eyes as she returns her attention to the screen. She knows her brother is a handsome man. She has grown up, seeing the attention girls always seem to be throwing his way.

 

“So, Robb, who is your ideal woman?” Liomond Lashare is asking as the four guys all sit on a couch together and the host sits in a chair next to them.

 

Robb smiles then and even blushes a little. “My wife.”

  
Sansa smiles, pleased with her brother’s answer. She hasn’t forgotten what Jeyne confided in her during their plane ride on the way to see the band.

 

“And what about you, Theon? Who is your ideal woman?” Liomond Lashare asks Theon, sitting next to Robb, and somehow, just looking at Theon’s smile, Sansa seems to know what he is going to say already.

 

“Robb’s wife,” Theon answers with a grin and Sansa smiles as the studio audience lets out a laugh.

 

“Grenn,” Liomond Lashare asks the drummer. “Any ideal woman of your own?”

 

“Robb’s wife _is_ a pretty incredible woman,” Grenn gives a grin as well.

 “Jon, should I even ask?” Liomond Lashare wonders.

 

“I think he might actually be hotter though, if that’s even possible,” Margaery says as the camera zooms a bit in on Jon.

 

This time, Sansa can’t help, but frown a little as Margaery takes note of Jon – _not_ that it should bother her any, Sansa reminds herself. She has a boyfriend and she’s falling more and more for Harwin every day and Jon is… Jon is Jon. He’s one of the closest friends she has, but he’s not _hers_ , by any means.

 

Jon blushes and shakes his head. “I should probably keep from answering that question until I know that I’m _her_ ideal guy,” he says.

 

“Whew!” Margaery leans back in her seat, fanning her face with her hand. “Very good answer. Their manager’s going to be quite pleased with that one.”

 

“You think?” Sansa asks, closing out the window and looking to her roommate.

 

“Definitely,” Margaery nods. “Now every girl who watches – whether they’ve ever even met him or not – is going to be wondering if there’s a possibility of them being _his_ ideal woman. That is going to do wonders for their record sales.”

 

She stands up to put her chair back to her desk and then flops down on her bed once more.

 

“Oh,” Sansa says, looking back towards her screen and the desktop picture she has there set as the wallpaper – a picture of Sansa standing between Jon and Robb with their arms over her shoulders.

 

She needs to remember to get a picture of herself and Harwin so she can change her background.

 

…


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam is the equivalent of Brian Epstein, the Beatles manager, who was so important in getting the Beatles' fame to where we know it to be. Thank you so much as always! This chapter seemed to fly right out of me. More actual Jon and Sansa in the next chapter.

…

 

“Brian (Epstein) put in a lot of time getting us off the ground. He believed in us from the start.”

– George Harrison

 

…

 

“What do you think?” Sam asks his brother as they playback the song the guys have just finished recording. They are sitting in the booth as the guys stay out in the studio. They have put their guitars down and Grenn has come to join them from behind his drums and are all now smoking and laughing about something – seems to be at Theon’s expense if the way the bassist is snarling at the rest of them is any indication of their laughter.

 

Dickon gives a nod, hitting the stop button. “It’s good. Real good.”

 

“But not yet?” Sam guesses and then sighs, looking back down to the list of tracks.

 

He loves each and every song that Robb and Jon have worked on for their first album to be released under KL Capital Records with worldwide distribution already planned. This is the record that is going to be heard all over Westeros and he knows that this is what the guys have been working for. Robb had already said it too many times to count now. The Direwolves will not be returning to Westeros until they have a #1 single on the charts and Sam wants to help them get that.

 

When the four had signed their contracts with KL Capital Records, each one had said that they would only sign if Sam remaining their manager and Dickon their recording engineer be put into those contracts as well. All four have shown that they believe in Sam and the decisions he has made thus far for the band and Sam is not going to let them down. He will get them their #1.

 

But Dickon’s right. All of these songs are great and are going to do great, but they need that _phenomenal_ song that will get everything else off the ground.

 

Looking through the glass again, Sam sees that Jon and Robb have gone to sit on the couch with their guitars, facing one another. Sam has watched them write songs together before. He finds it fascinating; the way they bounce off of each other. Jon will write something and then Robb will add something and they’ll go back and forth like that until they have a song. And with Jon being right-handed and Robb being left-handed, it’s almost as if the two are looking into a mirror’s reflection of themselves. The first time Sam witnessed it, he swore that he got another bout of goosebumps.

 

He sits up spine-straight when he hears Jon play something on his guitar and it makes Dickon lift his head, too. The speaker is on in the booth so they can hear everything out in the studio and Sam practically dives across Dickon to press the button so the guys can hear into the booth as well.

 

“Jon!” He exclaims loudly before he can get himself to not to.

 

Jon jumps at the suddenness of it and he whips his head around to look at him in the booth.

 

“Play that opening again, Jon,” Dickon says, much calmer than his brother.

 

Jon’s brow furrows, but he looks to Robb. They both stand up and together, they play those opening notes again. Sam looks down to his arm. More goosebumps.

 

“What is that?” Sam asks and he’s glad to hear that he’s not shouting anymore though his excitement is only building. Before Jon can answer, Sam leaves the booth so he can talk to them in the studio.

 

“It’s just something I’ve been working on for a long time now,” Jon answers and he seems almost shy to be admitting it.

 

“It’s great,” Robb says with confidence.

 

Another way in which these two practically complete each other, Sam has noticed, having spent so much time with this band. While Jon sometimes seems to like to retreat into himself and not talk, Robb talks almost too much and where Jon sometimes has doubts about himself and something he has written, Robb has nothing, but confidence.

 

“May I hear it?” Sam asks politely though if they aren’t going to play it willingly, Sam will pull the manager card and demand it. He hasn’t had to pull that yet, but he figures that a manager card must exist.

 

Jon looks to Robb again and Robb gives Jon a nod, the two silently communicating with one another. Jon then looks back to Theon and Grenn.

 

“Let’s play _I Want to Hold Your Hand_ ,” he tells them.

 

Sam doesn’t return to the booth, but he glances over his shoulder back to Dickon. Dickon gives him a nod and presses a few buttons, getting himself ready to record as the guys get ready with their instruments.

 

Grenn counts it off with hits of his sticks. “One, two, three, four!”

 

And those opening notes and then Jon and Robb go to their microphones and begin singing at the same time and Sam feels that his body has gone completely still as he listens to the song for the first time. He can’t even be certain whether he’s properly breathing or not. But who cares about it if he is or not? Who cares about breathing while the Direwolves are playing this?

 

“ _Oh yeah I tell you somethin’_

_I think you’ll understand._

_When I say that somethin’_

_I want to hold your hand._

_I want to hold your hand._

_I want to hold your hand._

_Oh please say to me,_

_You’ll let me be your man._

_And please say to me,_

_You’ll let me hold your hand._

_You’ll let me hold your hand._

_I want to hold your hand.”_

The song is perfect. It’s absolutely perfect in every way. It’s something so simple – telling a girl that a guy wants to hold her hand. It’s sweet and loving and songs like this just aren’t written. There’s almost an innocence to it that also adds to its instant appeal. Isn’t that what everyone wants whether they come out and admit such a thing? Yes, sex is great and all that, but at the end of the day, a simple hand hold, well, there’s nothing more tender than that; to show one’s true feelings.

 

The guys sing out the last note as they hit the last chord and Grenn hits the last beat and the best song Sam has ever heard finishes.

 

Dickon hits the button and the light goes off.

 

“Well?” Robb is the one to ask. “What do you think?”

 

“Goosebumps,” Sam murmurs to himself and the others don’t hear.

 

“Congratulations, guys,” Dickon says from inside the booth, through the speaker. “You’ve just recorded your very first #1 hit.”

 

…

 

It happens overnight. Jon knows that is actually _doesn’t_ happen overnight, but that’s exactly how it feels. One day, The Direwolves are really only known in Essos and the next, their second record – “With the Direwolves” – is released through KL Capital Records and it explodes everywhere. Absolutely explodes.

 

“You won’t believe what happened to me today,” Sansa tells him from over the phone.

 

Jon has a feeling he has her beat – currently sitting on the floor of the bathroom of a hotel room in Braavos just so he can have a moment alone from the massive crowds of fans gathered outside, all screaming for them – but he’s not going to say that. He would much rather hear about her life at university right now and distract him from the absolute pandemonium that has taken over his.

 

“Tell me,” Jon says, sounding as if he’s pleading.

 

“I walked into my dorm room and am now currently staring at a massive poster of you, Grenn, Theon and Robb,” she says and he can hear the smile in her voice. It makes him smile, too.

 

“Sansa, if you’ve forgotten what I look like, I can send you a picture right now. You don’t have to resort to buying Direwolves merchandise,” Jon teases.

 

“Shut it,” Sansa smiles and it gets a laugh out of him. “Do you know that picture I have of the four of you and me and Jeyne from when we visited you in Pentos?” She asks, but then continues, not expecting him to answer. “Anyway, I had it framed, on my desk, and I wound up taking it home. I didn’t want to leave it in my dorm anymore. I’m fairly certain someone would have nicked it.”

 

“Direwolves fans are rabid,” Jon mutters.

 

“To say the least,” Sansa laughs softly. “I feel like I can’t walk anywhere on campus without hearing you. Harwin told me he was sitting in class and someone forgot to turn their phone off. Guess what their ringtone was. _Hold Me Tight_.”

 

“Gods,” Jon sighs and Sansa laughs again.

 

There is a moment of quiet between them and Jon can hear the screaming crowds outside.

 

“What’s wrong, Jon?” Sansa then asks him in that quiet, gentle voice that makes him just want to close his eyes and focus on nothing, but her. “Aren’t you happy?”

 

“I am,” he replies and it’s honest. He _is_ happy. “It’s just… a lot. Gods, I had no idea it would be like this. It’s just… _everywhere_ , all of the time. It’s exhausting. And I sound like an asshole for saying that, don’t I? Hundreds of guys would kill someone to be in my position right now.”

 

“You’re allowed to be overwhelmed, Jon,” Sansa tells him. “I can’t even imagine how it is for you now. But just remember. You deserve this. Say it.”

 

Jon smiles a little at her order. “I deserve this,” he echoes obediently.

 

“Good boy,” she says and he lets out a laugh, making her giggle. “Yours and Robb’s songs are incredible, Jon,” she continues on. “Truly, they are and the world is never going to be the same.”

 

“They’re just songs, Sansa,” Jon says, shifting almost uncomfortably from her words. Music and songs might change _his_ world, but that’s just because that’s what music has always done for him. He doesn’t expect that be done for anyone else.

 

“They’re _not_ just songs, Jon,” Sansa says vehemently. “They’re the Direwolves’ songs and they’re wonderful. Now, let me hear it again.”

 

Jon sighs again as if he’s being put out, but he can feel the smile beginning to break through. “I deserve this,” he says the words and he can hear Sansa beaming from over the phone.

 

It is only after they end their call a moment later does Jon realize that he hadn’t asked her anything about her classes are going. He doesn’t think he’s asked her _anything_ about what’s going on with her, but before he can call her back to do just that, the bathroom door is pushed open.

 

“I can’t sleep with that going on,” Grenn grumbles, shuffling in, holding his pillow to his chest.

 

Jon smiles a little as Grenn climbs into the empty bathtub and after a moment of getting him situated onto his side, he seems to promptly fall asleep. Jon is about to press Sansa’s contact again, but Robb and Theon enter now, both holding bags of carry-out.

 

“Got you a burger,” Robb tells him, his own mouth full of his own burger.

 

“Thanks,” Jon gives them a smile and Theon throws Grenn his burger, wrapped in wax paper, and it hits Grenn directly in the face. Grenn doesn’t even stir.

 

“Is he alive?” Theon asks, settling himself down on the floor.

 

“If he’s not, we’ll call Harwin and ask if he wants to come back,” Robb says, leaning against the tub and stretching his legs out in front of him.

 

“I’m alive, dicks,” Grenn grumbles.

 

“Harwin will never come back. Dr. I want to quit the band and go to school. He’s too good for us now,” Theon says through a mouthful of chips.

 

“He’s never said he’s too good for us,” Jon frowns a little at that while wondering why in the hell he’s defending Sansa’s boyfriend. Because, Jon reminds himself, Harwin’s your friend and he was your friend long before he was ever Sansa’s boyfriend. “And he’s our friend,” he reminds Theon. The four of them went through school for years together. They _were_ the Direwolves before they ever thought anything like this would ever happen to them.

 

“Geez. If a guy can’t rib his ophthalmologist, who the hell can he rib?” Theon wonders.

 

“I said I’m alive, dicks!” Grenn grumbles louder. “Stop thinking of replacing me with an ophthalmologist.”

 

Robb is looking at Jon across the bathroom from him. “You okay?” He asks.

 

Jon hesitates, thinking of his conversation with Sansa, but there’s no way he can tell the other guys what he told her. They’ll never understand. Yeah, it’s overwhelming for them right now, too, but Jon knows they’ll think he’s insane for finding any reason _ever_ to complain whatsoever about any of this.

 

Sansa’s the only person in the world he can see himself telling anything to. Maybe his mom. He can talk to Sansa and she listens and offers encouragement and comfort and somehow, she always seems to know exactly what to say to him. And he can’t even think to ask her how her classes and acting are going.

 

“I’m okay,” Jon nods. “You okay?”

 

Robb gives him a grin and a nod. “I’m okay.”

 

“Well, _I’m_ not okay,” Theon frowns. “Robb’s gotten a dozen marriage proposals so far. I’ve only gotten three. Robb’s already married. He doesn’t need any more wives.”

 

“You’re actually looking to get married?” Jon asks, finally unwrapping his burger to take a bite.

 

“Don’t see the harm in it,” Theon shrugs and then takes a massive bite of his own burger. He then resumes to talk even with his mouth full. “I could be like Robb and have a wife and still have my fun,” he gives a grin and Robb gets a playful elbow in the side.

 

Robb doesn’t say anything to that as he seems to be concentrating eating his fries.

 

Jon doesn’t say anything either. He and Robb have an unspoken agreement between them to not talk about those things. Robb is married, but he still goes after girls when Jeyne’s not around – and when they had been in Essos, Jeyne hadn’t been around a lot. Jon doesn’t know why Robb does it. He absolutely loves Jeyne – Jon doesn’t doubt that. The letters he’s always writing her and the way he walks about her; listening to him night after night in Essos, talking about how much he misses her. And the jealousy Robb would go through if Jeyne even _mentioned_ another man’s name in conversation, no, it doesn’t make sense to Jon why Robb goes after girls when he’s married; and Jeyne is madly in love with him, too.

 

But they don’t talk about it because Robb is his best friend and what happens in Robb and Jeyne’s marriage, Jon knows it’s none of his business. 

 

If Jon ever gets married himself, he won’t be like that. He refuses to be like that to his wife.

 

“Guys! Guys!” Sam rushes into the bathroom then, red-cheeked and bright-eyed. He doesn’t even see anything strange at the four of them in the bathroom, eating burgers and fries. He takes a few deep breaths, attempting to regulate his breathing again. “What would I say if I told you that this day, next week, you will be appearing and performing live on The Bronn Blackwater Show?” He asks.

 

Jon, Robb and Theon all blink up at him. Grenn slowly sits up in the bathtub to stare at him as well.

 

“What?” Robb is the one to recover first and Sam bursts into a grin. “The Bronn Blackwater Show?”

 

“As in, the biggest nighttime entertainment show in all of Westeros?” Grenn asks.

 

“They want us to play live?” Jon asks.

 

“The Bronn Blackwater Show?” Theon echoes the question again.

 

“Yes, yes, and yes to everything you just said,” Sam is bobbing his head up and down again. He then takes a deep breath. “I just got word from King’s Landing. This time tomorrow, not only will the Direwolves have the #1 single in Westeros with _I Want to Hold Your Hand_ , but the Direwolves will also have the #1 album with “With the Direwolves”.”

 

For a moment, as that announcement is registered in all of their minds, there is silence.

 

And then, there is an explosion. All four guys leap to their feet – Grenn leaping out of the bathtub – and they begin cheering and shouting, hugging and jumping and shouting some more. Grenn leaps onto Sam’s back and Jon and Robb whoop and hug one another tightly and Theon gallops out of the room. He tears the windows open and as soon as the fans see him below, the cheers grow even louder.

 

“We’ve got the #1 one fucking record in the world!” He screams and though they can’t hear what he has said, the fans below cheer even louder.

 

He whoops and runs back into the room, leaping onto Jon and Grenn now as Robb and Sam hug one another, both with tears in their eyes. The celebration lasts for, Jon doesn’t know how long. He just knows that once everyone is settling down again, his throat feels raw from cheering and his eyes are damp, too. He has to call his mom right away. And Sansa… he has to let Sansa know.

 

Or does he? He assumes Robb has already called all of the Starks; as he should have. The Starks are Robb’s family. Sansa is Robb’s sister. And to Jon, Sansa is just his friend. And yet, after his mom, Sansa is the only person Jon had even thought to call with this news. And not that she would know this, but _I Want to Hold Your Hand_ is _her_ song. He wrote it for her. She’s the reason the Direwolves have the #1 single.

 

Mind made up, Jon goes back to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it this time, and sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, he dials her number. She picks up on the second ring.

 

“Jon,” she says his name, breathless, and she’s crying, but he can hear her smiling, too.

 

“Yeah,” Jon breathes and knowing that she’s crying, Jon fills his eyes well up, too and he leans forward, resting his forehead against his hand. “I can’t believe it.”

 

Sansa lets out something that sounds like a laugh and sob. “I told you, Jon. You deserve this.”

 

_Because of you_ , Jon silently tells her.

 

…


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Beatles performed on _The Ed Sullivan Show_ with over 73 million people watching. The performance is credited as introducing The Beatles to the world and being the official beginning of Beatlemania. The words Bronn says in his introduction are the exact words Ed Sullivan spoke (with a couple obvious changes). I know I mentioned to some that Ygritte would be in this chapter, but her introduction has been pushed back to the next chapter. Thank you so, so much to those reading and enjoying this story!

…

 

“Who the hell are the Beatles?” – Ed Sullivan

 

…

 

“Sansa! If you’re not down here in the next three minutes, we’re leaving without you!” Ned’s booming voice carries up the stairs.

 

“I’ll be right down, I promise!” Sansa calls back and then goes back to looking through her bag on the bed, certain she hasn’t forgotten anything, but still wanting to make sure for the sixth and final time.

 

The band is coming home today. Well, not _home_ exactly, but to Westeros and the Stark family – and Lyanna Snow coming with them in their car – are traveling to meet them at the King’s Landing Airport; to be there when the band lands. And from there, they will be accompanying them to the Red Keep Hotel before they all go down to the studio for the live Bronn Blackwater Show and the Direwolves’ official introduction to the world.

 

Jeyne has flown to Essos to meet with Robb there while Jack has stayed with the Starks. Robb had asked Jeyne if she wouldn’t mind coming over there just to fly back, but of course Jeyne hadn’t minded. Jeyne had heard something in Robb’s voice that had made her not even hesitate in flying out to Essos.

 

“He’s scared,” Jeyne had confided to Sansa three days earlier as she packed her own bag and Sansa had sat, playing with Jack. “He won’t actually say that, but he is. All of the guys are.”

 

Sansa hadn’t doubted that though she hasn’t come right out and ask Jon that specially. She is just able to tell, she supposes. Their emails between one another as well as their phone conversations have been different since the announcements of both the #1 single and album.

 

Jon hasn’t wanted to talk about any of it. At all. He has asked her endless questions about her classes and acting and even about her relationship with Harwin; anything at all to not talk about his own life. And Sansa had given him the distraction, filling their emails and conversations with chatter and considering it a rave success when she gets him to laugh.

 

“I’m so sorry I missed it, Sansa,” Jon said once she had told him about her open house workshop and her performance as Nora in “A Doll’s House”. “I promised I wouldn’t miss it and that’s exactly what I’ve done.”

 

“It’s alright, Jon,” Sansa had told him, meaning it. She didn’t dare tell him that she had never expected him to come and would have been surprised if he actually had shown up. He’s just too busy right now to fly all the way back to the North for her and a little play. “Hopefully, it won’t be my only performance and like I told you, you didn’t miss much. It wasn’t even the _whole_ play. Just scenes. I think my parents now think I’m quite good so _that_ was a success.”

 

“Of course you’re quite good, Sansa,” Jon had told her in that soft voice of his that always gives her shivers and makes her feel guilty for having such a reaction to it. “I think you’re amazing.”

 

Harwin’s voice has never made her shiver. It’s made her stomach clench, yes, and she feels warms at some of the things he says to her, but he’s never made her actually shiver and she has told herself that that doesn’t matter because Harwin is wonderful and she really likes him – and he likes her, too – and so what if his voice doesn’t give her the occasional bout of shivers? There’s more to a relationship than that.

 

… Right?

 

Deciding that she has everything she could possibly need for the next few days, she zips up her bag and with one more look to her bedroom from over her shoulder, Sansa hurries down the stairs. Ned is standing there, pointedly looking at the watch on his wrist, and he looks to her when she stops on the bottom step in front of him.

 

“Twelve more seconds,” Ned informs her and she does her best to not roll her eyes.

 

“But I made it,” Sansa smiles.

 

“You did and with twelve _whole_ seconds to spare,” Ned says with his own smile and takes her bag. He grunts a little when he feels the weight of it. “What in Westeros are you bringing with you?”

 

“Options,” Sansa gives an airy reply and shrug and then grins when she hears her dad grumble, _“Options”_ as he turns to carry the bag outside to the family’s car in the driveway.

 

“Oh, Sansa,” Catelyn hurries into hallway, holding her cell phone. “Did you pack your charger? I can’t find mine so I’m guessing that I did, but we don’t have time for me to go searching through all my bags.”

 

“I have mine,” Sansa assures her and with a hurried kiss to Sansa’s cheek, Catelyn follows her husband to make sure that he has the family’s passes to the airport that Sam has sent them earlier that week that allows them to go straight to the terminal without having to go through security.

 

“He is getting way too heavy,” Arya comes next with Jack in her arms and Jack giggles as if quite pleased with himself and his aunt’s opinion of him.

 

“Here,” Sansa offers and takes the boy into her own arms. “Are you excited?” She then asks and she realizes that she’s not too sure if she’s asking Arya or Jack or even both.

 

Arya shrugs. “It’s just Robb, Jon and the others.” She pats her back pocket and realizes that she’s forgotten her phone. “Bugger. Don’t let dad leave without me!” She shouts as she turns to take the stairs two at a time back up to her bedroom.

 

Sansa looks to Jack and Jack looks to Sansa, aunt and nephew sharing a smile. “Well, _I’m_ excited,” Sansa says and Jack smiles, seeming to be in complete agreement, and though he doesn’t exactly understand what’s about to happen, he bobs his head up and down eagerly.

 

Sansa can only hope that the guys aren’t _too_ nervous and she hopes that Jon knows that if he is, he can call her and she will be more than happy to talk him through it. She can’t help, but wonder that if the Direwolves are about to become as big as she knows they’re going to be, will Jon still think to call her when he needs to talk to someone? Or will someone as big as he’s about to be forget all about her?

 

…

 

“Tell the boys they have a bit of a crowd waiting for them,” the pilot tells him.

 

Sam grins at that and after another moment of talking, he leaves the cockpit to go into the main portion of the small plane the record company has chartered for today. Theon and Grenn are sitting in two chairs across from one another, smoking and playing a card game that doesn’t seem to be agreeing with Theon is his cursing is any indication. Robb and Jeyne are sitting side-by-side, Robb’s head on his wife’s shoulder and Jeyne’s fingers tenderly carding through his hair, talking to him in a voice too quiet for Sam to hear. Jeyne is probably working her Jeyne magic and helping Robb keep calm. Sam has learned that sometimes, Robb will get in particularly anxious or self-deprecating moods and Jeyne seems to be the only one who is able to talk him down again. And Jon is sitting in a seat next to the window, looking at the passing clouds as he smokes a cigarette, a notebook open in his lap, but being ignored.

 

Sam drops himself into the seat next to Jon and Jon turns his head to smile at him. “Alright then?” Sam asks as he pulls out a container of pills, popping onto in his mouth, able to swallow it without water.

 

Jon gives him a small smile. “Should someone with high blood pressure be the manager of a band?”

 

“I’m fine,” Sam waves off his concerns – not the first time those concerns have been voiced. “Alright then?” He asks Jon again.

 

Jon pauses and then nods. “Just hoping I don’t make a complete ass of myself in front of thousands of people tonight.”

 

Sam nearly tells him that it will be _millions_ , not mere thousands, but he wisely keeps that correction to himself. The guys are all nervous enough – the mood buzzing in the air like live electrical wires. Sam thinks that nervousness might be a good thing though. There’s something endearing about four young guys, wide-eyed and nervous. Somehow, it makes them more relatable; more charming. Just four normal guys dropped down into an out-of-the ordinary situation. People will feel like they can relate to them.

 

“You’ll be fine,” Sam gives Jon a smile. “Just think. In about another hour, nothing will ever be the same.”

 

Jon smirks at that. “Thanks for keeping me calm,” he replies dryly and Sam gives him a grin.

 

Within forty more minutes, the plane begins its descent into King’s Landing and Sam gathers the guys all together. “Your families are already at the airport, waiting for you. There is a bit of a crowd waiting for you as well. Remember to keep smiling. Wave. Be charming.”

 

“Maybe Theon should wait on the plane,” Robb comments and Theon shoves him in the shoulder.

 

“Don’t worry about your bags. Those will get to the hotel in due time. We are all going to be driving to the hotel in the same car.”

 

“Not with our family?” Jon frowns a little at that.

 

“It’s best if we stay together. You’ll see why,” Sam says. “You’ll have about two hours with your families before we have to get to the studio for sound checks. How does that sound?”

 

Jon almost says that that doesn’t sound good at all, but he keeps his mouth shut because the other guys seem fine with it. Two hours? That’s it? His mom, the Starks… Sansa… they’re all going to be here with them and Jon feels like he’ll barely be able to see them at all.

 

“Jeyne?” Robb asks, his hand holding his wife’s and he looks to her before back to Sam.

 

“You four are going to de-board the plane first. Jeyne’s going to stick with me. Okay?” Sam smiles.

 

Jeyne is the one to smile and nod at that. “Of course.” She smiles at Robb and squeezes his hand.

 

“Holy shit,” Grenn breathes, earning all of their attentions, and he’s staring at something out the window. Theon, Robb and Jon all rush over to join him and all four seem to stop breathing at the same time.

 

Below them is the King’s Landing Airport and at the tarmac where their plane will be landing, all behind the fences, there are people. Hundreds of people. No, maybe even more than hundreds. Thousands. A sea mass of bodies, many holding signs to welcome the Direwolves to Westeros. All of those people are here to see them and Robb and Jon look at one another, hardly able to believe it; not even knowing what to say about it. Robb breaks into a grin and with an arm around Jon’s neck, he tugs him into the side for a hug. Jon grins back and slaps his hand on Robb’s back.

 

“Look!” Theon exclaims happily once the plane has landed and they are able to see the signs clearly as well are able to hear the roar of the cheers from everyone outside who has come here to see them land.

 

_MARRY ME THEON!_

Grenn sighs and looks back to Jon and Robb. “There will be no living with him now.”

 

“You lads ready?” Sam asks as he stands at the airplane door with the flight attendant, ready to open it.

 

The four stand still for a moment and look at another.

 

“Where are we going, fellas?” Robb asks and they all break into grins.  

 

“To the top, Robbie!” Theon exclaims.

 

Robb grins. “Where’s that, fellas?” He asks.

 

Grenn laughs. “To the toppermost of the poppermost, Robbie!”

 

“Right!” Robb says, his grin nearly splitting his face, and he throws his arm around Jon’s neck again and looks to Sam, who is watching them with his own smile. “Yeah, Sam, we’re ready.”

 

…

 

Grenn is tapping out on the dressing room table with his drumsticks as the others sit, tuning their guitars. The live episode of _The Bronn Blackwater Show_ filming at this very moment is being shown on the large television on the wall. None of them are talking, all focusing on their own thoughts. Jon, personally, feels is thoughts are so jumbled together, they’re just one big knot and he can’t differentiate one from another. All of them are aware just how big this moment is going to be. None of them have to state the obvious.

 

There is a knock on the door and Theon gets up to answer it since he’s the one closest.

 

“Hey,” he breaks into a smile the instant he sees who it is and opens the door wider.

 

Sansa steps into the room, smiling at them all. Jon doesn’t stop himself from thinking how beautiful she looks that night. She’s wearing a dark blue dress – he knows it’s new because she told them – and it seems to shimmer when she moves. It reminds him of the sky of a Northern night. It makes him miss home. It makes him miss _her_ and he honestly is reaching the point where he wants to stop.  

 

Being in love with Sansa Stark has given him some great songs. She gave them their #1 whether she, or anyone else, knows that. But being in love with Sansa Stark hasn’t given him much of anything else and he wants to just stop being in love with her.

 

But then, she gives him a smile – much she smiles at him now – and he thinks of their emails or phone conversations or when they can actually see one another face-to-face and he finds himself falling all over again and there actually doesn’t seem to be too much that he can actually do to stop it. 

 

“Are you allowed back here?” Robb asks, getting to his feet.

 

“Well, I must be allowed to be back here if I’m actually back here,” Sansa quips with a smile. “You guys should see the security blocking anyone from getting back here to you.”

 

“So how’d you manage it then?” Grenn wonders, giving his sticks a roll on the table surface.

 

“Sam assured the guards that I’m not a groupie.”

 

“Aren’t you?” Theon sidles up next to her and puts an arm around her shoulders, giving her a wink; which Sansa responds to with an eye roll and an elbow in his stomach.

 

Jon pretends to be focusing on tightening a couple of his guitar strings and doing his best to hide his frown; knowing there’s no reason to frown. It’s Theon, for God’s sake.

 

The others talk, but Jon admits that he’s not really listening. He’s not trying to think about the show tonight, but he’s also trying to not think of anything at all.

 

When he feels someone sit down beside him on the sofa, his eyes fly up and he sees that it’s Sansa and the other guys are no longer in the dressing room.

 

She gives him a small smile. “You’re going to be great tonight, Jon,” Sansa tells him with confidence.

 

“Thanks,” he says and both his answer and voice are short.

 

Sansa notices it immediately and her smile starts to drop. “Are you nervous?”

 

“No.” A blatant lie and he’s certain that Sansa probably knows that, but he stands up before she can call him out on it. “Where are the guys?” He asks her, purposely not looking at her as she stands up, too.

 

From the corner of his eye, he can see her looking at him, her brow furrowed, not understanding his mood. Jon will be honest and admit that he doesn’t really understand it either. There’s no reason he should be speaking to Sansa like this or acting like she’s anyone, _but_ Sansa, but he can’t seem to help himself even though he knows he better damn well help himself.

 

Even if she wasn’t _Sansa_ , they’ve built a friendship between them that Jon doesn’t want to ruin. He doesn’t know if he can tell Sansa this, but a part of him feels like he needs this friendship with her; even as he’s wishing for it to be something so much more.

 

He exhales a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry,” he says, finally looking at her again. “I just… I’m scared.”

 

“Scared?” Sansa echoes, as if she just wants to make sure that she got the word right.

 

He nods and visibly swallows. “It’s all changing tonight. Whether for the better or worse, nothing’s going to be the same after tonight and I’m terrified of which way it’s going to go.”

 

“Oh, Jon,” she says his name in such a gentle tone, it makes him ache in his chest. Sansa then steps into him then and her arms wrap around his shoulders and he holds the neck of his guitar with one hand while his other arm goes around her waist. “You are going to change the world, Jon Snow,” she whispers.

 

Jon can’t stop himself from closing his eyes, turning his face and pressing it to the side of her throat.

 

…

 

Bronn Blackwater, host of the #1 late-night entertainment show in Westeros, stands in front of the live studio audience – absolutely packed to the gills that night, mostly with young women, and smiles at them. He is already imagining the ratings that this is going to bring him.

 

“Now yesterday and today, our theater’s been jammed with newspapermen and hundreds of photographers from all over the nation, and these veterans agreed with me that the city never has the excitement stirred by these youngsters from Wintertown, who call themselves The Direwolves. Now tonight, you’re gonna twice be entertained by them. Right now, and again in the second half of our show. Ladies and gentlemen, The Direwolves! Let’s bring them on!”

 

His last words were drowned out by the absolute screams of everyone present as the curtains part and the Direwolves are shown for the first time to the world in their signature black suits.

 

“1, 2, 3, 4!” Jon is the one to count off and then they begin playing.

 

_“Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you,_

_Tomorrow I’ll miss you._

_Remember I’ll always be true._

_And then while I’m away,_

_I’ll write home every day._

_And I’ll send all my loving to you.”_

The band’s singing and playing can hardly be heard over the noise of the crowd and Sansa is right in the middle of it, screaming along with everyone else.

 

As they play, the camera focuses on each one with their names appearing on the screen. 

 

JON

 

THEON 

 

GRENN 

 

ROBB _(sorry girls, he's married)_

 

She looks to her parents, Ned absolutely beaming and Catelyn watching, clasping her hands under her chin as tears shine in her eyes. Arya is shouting and screaming and singing along, Bran and Rickon doing the same, Rickon jumping up and down as he does so and nearly falling into the screaming girl in front of him. Lyanna Snow watches much like the way Catelyn is, watching Jon with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.

 

“Daddy!” Jack is shouting from Jeyne’s arms and she’s laughing and bouncing him.

 

Sansa looks back to the stage – to Robb and Jon, to Theon, to Grenn. She knows that what she told Jon earlier is absolutely true. Nothing is going to be the same from now on.

 

The Direwolves have arrived and absolutely nothing is going to be the same.

…


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely LOVE this chapter and I hope you do, too! Thank you so much for reading and all of the kudos and thank you so, so much to those who take time to leave a comment. Writing this story makes me so happy and I love to hear that others like reading it! Can anyone guess which song Jon is going to write after this chapter?

…

 

“We went to do a job, and we’d worked all day and we happened to work all night. I came up, still thinking it was day, I suppose, and I said ‘It’s been a hard day…’ and I looked around and saw it was dark so I said, ‘…night!’ So, we came to _A Hard Day’s Night.”_ – Ringo Starr

 

…

 

Robb and Jeyne stand on the red carpet, getting their pictures taken by the dozens and dozens of cameras in front of them, the flashes so strong that Jack – in Robb’s arms – is wearing a little pair of sunglasses over his eyes, which everyone thinks is just adorable. A bit down from him, Jon is getting his picture taken and with him is Ygritte – no last name necessary – one of the most recognizable models in Westeros. Rumors had been swirling about the two ever since they met a few months earlier on the set of the band’s first film, _A Hard Day’s Night_ , in which Ygritte had a cameo and tonight at the premiere is the couple’s own premiere. And then, a bit down from them, are Grenn and Theon with their own dates, getting their pictures taken.

 

The studio had wanted the film’s premiere to be in King’s Landing since it is, after all, the capital of Westeros, but the guys had thought otherwise and had gotten Sam to convince the studio to premiere _A Hard Day’s Night_ in Wintertown instead. There are so many people there – fans screaming from behind the barricades as reporters shout out questions for the band to answer.

 

None of the guys consider themselves to be actors, nor did they ever think they would ever have to act in a movie, but both KL Capital Records and the film studio, who had approached them, thought that the smartest thing to do is capitalize on the absolute Direwolves-mania that has swept the whole continent.

 

Apparently, the early screening for executives from both studios as well as Sam and Dickon – who had helped with the movie score – had everyone in stitches. For not being actors, the four band members are true scene stealers.

 

To add to the frenzy of the Direwolves releasing an actual movie, the band has been hard at work on the band’s next album, also titled _A Hard Day’s Night_ , and it is set to be released the week after the movie’s release to really build a demand for it. A tour and talk show appearances and interviews are scheduled by Sam for the band for the next three solid months.

 

“Gods. You don’t believe in giving us vacations?” Theon had asked when Sam had told them about all of these plans and the guys were already exhausted just thinking about it all.

 

“Vacation is for bands who aren’t the biggest in Westeros,” Sam had informed them with a quick shake of his head.

 

 Pictures with the families have already been taken and they now wait for the guys in the lobby of the theatre. Sansa stands in front of a life-size cardboard cutout of the band and does her best to not look at Jon’s image. But she’s also doing her best to not look out the glass windows, back to the red carpet, where Jon is standing with his arm around Ygritte’s waist and smiling for the cameras. There doesn’t seem to be anywhere safe to look right now and she is doing her best to figure out why she can’t even stand to look at Jon Snow’s face everywhere.

 

Well, she _knows_ , but she doesn’t want to admit that she knows the reason.

 

She’s nowhere near prepared to admit that she’s jealous. So Jon has a girlfriend. Sansa has a boyfriend and even if she didn’t, it’s not as if she and Jon were _ever_ anything to each other more than friends. Jon has never given her any indication that he’s wanted anything more than a friend he can talk to through phone calls and emails. And as long as she’s dating Harwin and her feelings for Harwin are still there, Sansa has no room to be jealous of Jon and his _model_ girlfriend.

 

Ygritte has made her fame by being a model in a world where models generally don’t look like her. She’s on the shorter side and red hair has never been popular amidst the fashion world. But she _is_ a model and she _is_ beautiful and to make it even worse, she seems perfectly nice and Sansa has noticed how much Jon is smiling with her. Sansa can’t remember if Jon has _ever_ smiled that much when he is spending time with her and that only makes Sansa both angry and so sad at the same time because these past few years as their friendship has grown closer, seeing that she’s never made him as happy as he obviously is now with Ygritte, it makes Sansa begin to wonder if Jon has just been talking with her because she’s Robb’s sister.

 

She startles when an arm slips through hers suddenly and she sees that it’s her mum.

 

“Could you come with me to the restroom, dear?” Catelyn asks. “I’d like to go before the film starts and it gets too crowded with others.”

 

“Of course,” Sansa readily agrees, grateful to get out of the lobby for a few minutes reprieve.

 

In the bathroom, however, there is a large poster for the film on the wall and each stall door has a picture of one of the band members. Catelyn is about to enter a stall with Robb’s face on it before she stops herself.

 

“That’s just too odd,” Catelyn says more to herself with a shake of her head and goes into a Grenn stall.

 

Sansa chooses a Theon stall and a minute later, both meet at the sinks. Catelyn makes sure that no part of her dress is tucked into her underwear and then looks to Sansa to make sure the same thing.

 

“You look so beautiful tonight, Sansa,” Catelyn smiles at her in the mirrors as they wash their hands.

 

And Sansa’s not sure why, but her mother’s comment makes hot tears flood her eyes. “Thank you,” she manages to say, able to hear her voice shaking.

 

Catelyn dries her hands before taking another paper towel and coming to stand in front of Sansa, carefully dabbing at her eyes. “You won’t want to ruin your makeup,” Catelyn says in a gentle voice.

 

The tone just makes more tears flood Sansa’s eyes before she can stop them. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I have a boyfriend and Harwin is so, so wonderful and I really like him so much.”

 

“I know you do,” Catelyn assures her, still gently dabbing.

 

“And it’s so selfish of me to think that Jon would stay single while I have a boyfriend,” Sansa continues.

 

“It is,” Catelyn agrees with a nod.

 

Sansa takes a shuddering breath and blinks her eyes up towards the ceiling. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m being such a horrible, _drama_ queen right now.”

 

That makes Catelyn smile faintly and then puts her hands on Sansa’s cheeks so they look at one another. “I think it’s perfectly natural for you to be feeling a bit of jealousy right now. I’m certain Jon was experiencing his own when you and Harwin first began dating.”

 

That makes Sansa’s brow furrows and she shakes her head. “Why would Jon have been jealous?”

 

Catelyn just keeps smiling. “You two,” she says, but doesn’t say anything more. “Sansa, the heart is big enough to love more than one person.”

 

“It shouldn’t be though,” she argues. “I should love my boyfriend and that should be it.”

 

She speaks as firmly as she can, refusing to cry about Jon Snow in a bathroom.

 

“And do you love Harwin or are you in love with Harwin?” Catelyn asks, sounding genuinely curious at the answer.

 

“Of course I love Harwin,” Sansa says and though her words are firm and she knows she means them, she also knows that that wasn’t the answer she should have given because there is a difference between loving someone and being in love with that someone and Harwin’s her boyfriend.

 

Shouldn’t she be _in_ love with her boyfriend and not crying in a bathroom because of another boy who currently has his arm around the waist of a model?

 

…

 

_“Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have_

_Immortal longings in me: now no more_

_The juice of Egypt’s grape shall moist this lip:_

_Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I heard_

_Antony call; I see him rouse himself_

_To praise my noble act; I heard him mock_

_The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men_

_To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come:_

_Now to that name my courage prove my title!_

_I am fire and air; my other elements_

_I give to baser life. So; have you done?_

_Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips._

_Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farwell._

_Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?_

_If thou and nature can so gently parth,_

_The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch,_

_Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still?_

_If thus thou vanishes, thou tell’st the world_

_It is not worth leave-taking.”_

A standing ovation. She receives a standing ovation for her first leading role and as she and her “Antony” step onto the stage to take their bow at curtain call, the audience in the auditorium gets to their feet and the cheers seem to last for minutes on end. Sansa’s heart is pounding in her chest and she is smiling, almost laughing from the pure exhilaration she is experiencing right now.

 

She gasps when Mrs. Crane – the director of this particular production – comes onto the stage then with two bouquets of flowers, one for “Antony” and the other for her. Mrs. Crane is beaming and she pulls Sansa into a hug, the applause still loud and enthusiastic. Sansa now feels like she will start crying from it all.

 

After the curtain falls for the last time, Sansa is then swept in hugs by all of the other cast members and she is laughing and smiling and she thinks this might be the best night of her entire life.

 

Her entire family has come to see her tonight on opening night of _Antony and Cleopatra_ in her first lead – well _almost_ her entire family. Her parents, Arya, Bran and Rickon are there as are Uncle Benjen and Aunt Alys. But Robb’s not here, nor is Jeyne or Jack – both having joined Robb on the _Hard Day’s Night_ tour. And Jon isn’t there either. Not that she had expected him to be, but still, he had promised her, once again, that he would do his best to make it.

 

Again, Sansa had known that there was no way he would be able to come and yet, her stomach sinks nonetheless.

 

She wishes he would stop his promises. 

 

Her Egyptian cat-eye makeup is still on and she’s still wearing her gold headpiece when she leaves backstage to meet her family, all waiting for her in the auditorium.

 

“There she is!” Ned booms, spotting her first, and Sansa laughs as her family begins cheering for her again and Ned tugs her into a tight hug.  

 

“Well, I didn’t understand a word of it, but the snake part was pretty cool,” Rickon comments as they hug.

 

“Thank you,” Sansa laughs at that.

 

“These are for you,” Benjen says, passing her another bouquet of flowers.

 

“Oh, they’re so beautiful, Uncle Benjen. Thank you.” She hugs her uncle and then aunt tightly.

 

“Did she really have to kill herself though?” Bran questions as he receives his own hug.

 

“It’s Shakespeare, Bran. You know she did,” Arya says to him as she and Sansa hug.

 

 “So, there’s an after-party now for the cast, crew and family and friends and I would love to bring you,” Sansa tells them. “And I’d really love for you to meet Mrs. Crane,” she says to her parents.

 

“Oh, yes!” Catelyn agrees eagerly, knowing that Mrs. Crane is her daughter’s favorite acting teacher. “I would love to meet her and go to a real theatre after-party.”

 

“Well, we’re university students so I don’t know how real it is,” Sansa smiles.

 

“Is Harwin meeting us there?” Ned asks as they all leave the auditorium to step outside.

 

“Where _is_ Harwin?” Arya all, but demands and Sansa smiles faintly, able to hear in her sister’s tone that Arya is prepared to go to battle to defend Sansa if that’s what needs to be done.

 

“I don’t think so. He felt so awful that he couldn’t come tonight, but he has this ridiculously huge exam tomorrow-” Sansa begins to explain.

 

“Studying comes first,” Ned agrees.

 

“-but he’s definitely coming tomorrow night,” Sansa finishes.

 

“Here, love,” Catelyn passes Sansa her phone as they walk. “Your brother sent that a few hours ago.”

 

It’s a video and Sansa instantly smiles as soon as she hits play and it’s Robb, Jeyne and Jack all on the screen, wishing her luck with her play tonight and apologizing for having to miss it. At the end, Theon pops his head in and Sansa laughs as she looks at all of their smiling faces.

 

She misses them so, so much. Spring break is coming up. Maybe she can meet up with the tour somewhere.

 

She does her best to ignore that Jon hasn’t sent her any message at all.

 

…

 

Hours later, and more than a little tipsy on too much champagne, Sansa knows that it’s a bad idea, but that doesn’t stop her from dialing Jon on her phone. She sits on her bed and listens to it ring three times before it’s answered.

 

“Hi, Sansa,” Ygritte greets her instead of Jon.

 

Sansa does her best to ignore the rolling in her stomach. “Hi, Ygritte. Is Jon there?”

 

He must be if Ygritte is close enough to answer his phone before him.

 

“He is, but he’s in the shower. Can he call you back?”

 

“Of course,” Sansa does her best to sound pleasant and _normal_ and she ends the call as quick as she can.

 

He’s taking a shower and Ygritte’s in the room with him. Well, they’re dating. Their pictures are splashed all over the magazines, paparazzi following them everywhere and it’s obvious they’re sleeping together. Why wouldn’t Ygritte be in the same vicinity while Jon’s taking a shower?

 

She shouldn’t be doing this. She’s drunk. She’s being ridiculous. She should just wash her face, change into her pajamas and fall into bed. Her family is taking her out for breakfast tomorrow morning and she has another show tomorrow night – another show in which her _boyfriend_ will be attending.

 

Why is she caring about Jon Snow right now?

 

But as soon as she asks herself that, her cell begins ringing again with _JON_ on the screen. She hopes he’s calling her after he’s tugged on some pants or something and isn’t just wearing a towel.

 

“Hi,” she answers, sounding breathless, and she can only hope that Jon doesn’t hear it, too.

 

“Hey. Sorry I couldn’t pick up earlier. Is everything okay?” He asks and he sounds so concerned and attentive – as he always sounds – and Sansa blames the champagne for her temper flaring.

 

“No, Jon. It’s not okay. I had my play tonight. Remember? Opening night?”

 

He is silent for a moment, obviously trying to get his brain to remember just that. “Shit,” he then swears. “I am so, so sorry, Sansa.”

 

“You promised you would try to make it,” she says and she now sounds more sad than angry. She can’t decide if that’s better or worse.

 

“I know. _Try_ though. We just had our massive show last night in Red Keep Stadium and tomorrow, we’re heading to Tarth-”

 

“So you had a free day today?” Sansa interrupts.

 

Jon sighs heavily as if he’s already exhausted with the conversation. “Yes, Sansa, I did, but it’s a little difficult to fly to Wintertown for a few hours and then turn right back around and fly back to King’s Landing.”

 

Sansa stands up from the bed, angry again. “The band has a private jet, Jon! It’s not like you would have to deal with airport security and mobs! You said you would try!”

 

In the back of her mind, she wonders why she’s not angry at Robb for not having done that.

 

Because Robb hadn’t promised her that he would try. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it and Sansa had understood because the band’s schedule is so insane right now. She tries to remind herself that Jon has the same exact schedule as Robb, but she can’t talk logically to herself. Jon had promised he would try and he hadn’t. At all. If he wasn’t even going to be bothered, he shouldn’t have promised.

 

Maybe it would help if she was completely sober right now.

 

“Forgive me, Sansa, for not wanting to waste an entire jet of fuel to go to Wintertown for some college play,” he snaps.

 

Sansa sucks in a breath at his words, her heart twisting so fast and tight in her chest, it physically hurts, and she can hear Jon doing the same on his end.

 

“Sansa, I didn’t mean-”

 

“No, you did. You meant _exactly_ what you said. I’m just some college girl in some college play and you’re the big rock star now. Thank you so much for clarifying that for me, Jon Snow.”

 

“Sansa-”

 

Sansa promptly ends the call and after blocking Jon’s number, she silences her phone and tosses it onto her desk. She lasts for a grand total of five seconds after that before she bursts into tears, drops herself onto her bed and begins to cry into her pillow.

 

…


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for all of the comments on the last chapter. I will be responding to them this evening and probably tomorrow, too. I loved reading every single one of them and they just made me so happy and made writing this chapter done even faster than I planned. 
> 
> When the Beatles toured Japan, they experienced much what the Direwolves experience in Tarth. A quiet, polite audience. Their performances live and how awful they were sounding is one of the reasons the band eventually decided to stop touring altogether.
> 
> There will be a time jump in the next chapter. Thank you again!

…

 

“We don’t know (the tour schedule). It’s not up to us where we go. We just climb into the vans.” – John Lennon

 

…

 

Tarth is different. Not bad. Just different from all of the other cities in Westeros where their tour has taken them.

 

Everywhere else, it has become impossible to hear themselves. No matter how loud they turn their amps, no matter how loud they sing into the microphones, it doesn’t matter. The volumes and constant screams from the hordes of their fans makes it so Grenn has to watch the way the others move their bodies in front of him in order to keep some semblance of a beat on his drums because he can’t actually hear what they’re singing.

 

Tarth isn’t like that at all. Sam has scheduled three shows on three separate nights for them and during the first show, they are able to hear just how awful they have gotten at playing live. The audience sits there, quiet for the most part, only breaking into cheers at the end of each song and it’s the complete opposite of what the band has come to expect while playing shows.

 

They admit that they haven’t been practicing as much as they probably should have. There’s not nearly as much time anymore between shows and other appearances for practicing and also, they don’t see much the point to practicing if anything they play can’t be heard anyway during their concerts.  

 

But playing in Tarth with their quietness and politeness, Jon, Robb, Theon and Grenn all look at one another as they play, embarrassed with their performances. But the applause and cheers come anyway whether the band thinks they actually deserve it or not.

 

After they finish a set of songs, Jon turns to set down his electric guitar and strap up his acoustic guitar. Turning back towards his microphone, he sees that Theon has taken it upon himself to move it to the center of the stage.

 

“And so, for Jon Snow of Wintertown, opportunity knocks!” Theon grins into the microphone and then he turns, jogging off the stage to join Robb and Grenn, leaving Jon on his own.

 

Jon smiles out at the crowd as their applause dies down and he adjusts his guitar strap on his shoulder. It’s strange to be on the stage without the three other and he just hopes that he doesn’t make too big a fool of himself.

 

“I’ve been working on this one for the past couple of days and finally finishing it, tonight, you are the first to hear it. I hope you enjoy it,” Jon tells everyone there and then he steps back to clear his throat. He then begins to play and sing into the microphone, looking out to the faces watching him that he can’t see because of the spotlight directly on him.

 

_“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away._

_Now it looks as though they’re here to stay,_

_Oh, I believe in yesterday._

_Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be._

_There’s a shadow hanging over me,_

_Oh, yesterday came suddenly._

_Why she had to go,_

_I don’t know, she wouldn’t say._

_I said something wrong,_

_Now I long for yesterday.”_

As always, as he sings this song, his thoughts are only with Sansa. He did write the song because of her, after all, and he wishes that there was a way she would be able to hear it and be able to hear how sorry he is. Jon has never been the best at speaking his thoughts, but singing them, that’s always been entirely different and easier for him.

 

He’s tried to call, but it didn’t take him long to figure out that she has blocked his number and the six emails he has sent to her in three days have gone deleted without being read.

 

He’s messed up. Even if she wasn’t completely ignoring his existence, it wouldn’t take him to be a genius to know that. As soon as he called her play “some college play”, like it wasn’t important at all, not to just to her, but to anyone, he had immediately regretted the words. It was so much more than just some college play – not just to Sansa, but to him, too, and he doesn’t blame her for being so furious and hurt. He took something that meant the world to her and told her that it didn’t matter at all.

 

He doesn’t know how to fix this if she doesn’t talk to him so he’s done what he’s always done when it comes to saying things to Sansa he actually can’t ever seem to say.

 

He writes her a song.

 

And judging from the applause he receives once the song ends, Jon thinks it’s going to be another hit.

 

The other guys join Jon out on the stage once again and they close the show out with _A Hard Day’s Night_ and when they are finished, they all bow in unison as always and the crowd roars for them.

 

It’s an hour later when they’ve left the arena and have eaten something and are back at their hotel.

 

“Hey, Grenn,” Jon says as they all step off the elevator. “Do you mind if I borrow your phone for a moment?”

 

It’s been three days. How long does it take for a man to go absolutely insane? Three days apparently.

 

Grenn hesitates. “Are you going to call Sansa?”

 

Jon frowns, wondering how Grenn has guessed that. “Yes,” he answers truthfully.

 

“I’m sorry, mate. I don’t want her to block me, too,” Grenn says and he seems genuinely sorry about it and Jon sighs with annoyance. “Look. She’s pissed at you. So think of some other way to reach her besides the phone.”

 

“Send her a raven?” Jon answers dryly.

 

“You could call Harwin,” Grenn shrugs.

 

“No,” Jon’s refusal to that is emphatic and instant. There’s no way he’s calling Sansa’s boyfriend so he can talk to Sansa. He imagines what it would be like if the tables were turned and he can’t imagine Sansa ever calling Ygritte in order to get a hold of him.

 

But, it would be a _little_ different because Harwin is one of his friends. It wouldn’t be completely weird for Jon to give him a call and if he just so happens to ask how Sansa is, well… that wouldn’t be considered _too_ weird.

 

Unless Harwin is pissed at him, too, because Sansa has told him what Jon said to her and how he treated her. Another promise made; another promise broken and he had acted like some self-entitled rock star asshole to boot when Sansa knows he’s anything but. Or, at least, she _had_ known. He had certainly showed her otherwise.

 

“What else?” Jon asks Grenn as they’re almost to their rooms.

 

“I don’t know,” Grenn says with a little smile. “Flowers. Chocolates. Shit like that. What does Sansa like?”

 

Jon thinks that over. Him not breaking her promises. She would probably like that.

 

“Well, hello there, beautiful,” Theon smiles at one of the girls who has someone made it up to their floor despite the hotel’s tight security and is now being held back by their security guards. “And what is your name?”

 

Jon barely glances at the petite woman with hair so blonde, it’s almost white and purple eyes. “Daenerys,” she answers, but she is staring right at Robb as she says it. 

 

Robb glances at her, but then, when he fully sees her, he looks again, his eyes staying on her this time. Jeyne has gone back to the North with Jack the day before and in Robb's opinion, he's allowed to look at groupies again. 

 

Jon doesn’t want to see this happen again – Robb screwing some groupie and not his wife – so he takes out his keycard and goes into his room, leaving the rest of the guys to have their fun with the girls.

 

In the quietness of his room, he kicks off his shoes and sheds his black suit jacket before collapsing down onto his bed. He leans back against the headboard and takes a moment to light a joint as he pulls out his cell phone. He goes to his contacts and once again, he finds himself staring at Sansa’s number.

 

“No, Jon!” She had laughed when he had taken her picture to go along with her name. “That’s a terrible picture. Do not use that one!” She had tried to grab his phone from his hand and Jon had laughed the whole time.

 

“Do you even take a bad picture?” He had asked, still grinning and laughing, but being completely serious.

 

He is startled out of the brief memory when the phone begins to ring. He exhales some smoke before he answers.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hey,” Ygritte’s voice fills his ear. “So, when you guys get back from Tarth, I’ve cleared it with my manager and I’ll be able to meet up with you in Bronzegate.”

 

“That’s great,” Jon says and he knows that he means that and yet, his voice shows nothing of that.

 

Ygritte is quiet, obviously hearing his lack of enthusiasm, and he can practically hear her frowning from her end. “What is it?” She asks, sighing heavily.

 

“Nothing. I’m just unwinding from the show tonight. I can’t wait to see you in Bronzegate,” Jon assures her.

 

And he is because he likes Ygritte. He likes her a lot. He can’t believe that he’s dating her, to be honest. An actual famous model who wants to be seen on Jon’s arm. He honestly can hardly believe it. He’s just some kid from some small town in the North and now he’s here, dating a model. This still doesn’t always feel like his life.

 

Being a model though has nothing to do with why Jon’s with her. He’ll argue anyone who says that. They met on the set of the band’s movie and hit it off. They laugh at a lot of the same stupid stuff, he’s found out. And more than that… well, it’s nice to have someone, if he’s being honest.

 

As they talk – Jon about the show that night and Ygritte about some photoshoot she had that day – he hears a beeping in his ear and he pulls the phone just far enough away to see who is calling him.

 

“Shit. Ygritte, I gotta go,” he says as quickly as he can and then ends the call with her before she can say another word, flying into a sitting position, hitting to accept the other call. “Sansa?” He frantically answers, hoping that he hasn’t missed her; hoping she hasn’t changed her mind in calling him and hanging up already.

 

The last time he had heard her voice, she was in tears.

 

_“I’m just some college girl in some college play and you’re the big rock star now. Thank you so much for clarifying that for me, Jon Snow.”_

He wants to tell her right this second that that’s not true and that’s not at all what he thinks.

 

He hears music blaring from the other end of the phone and it takes him a minute to realize that it’s _his_ music. Well, Robb had written most of that one. _I’ve Just Seen a Face_ is pounding and he can hear people singing to it. He then hears a collection of giggles into the phone.

 

“Sansa?” He says again, more cautiously this time. Sansa doesn’t sound like that when she giggles though.

 

“Oh my gosh, it is you!” A girl he doesn’t recognize exclaims in his ear and Jon has to pull the phone away. “I saw a picture of you once in Sansa’s room, but I just thought it was a guy who _looked_ like you. But it is you!”

 

“Uh, is Sansa there?” He questions cautiously.

 

So, someone obviously has stolen Sansa’s phone. Does she know that? He can’t imagine that she does because there’s no way Sansa would let some stranger call one of the guys. She’s always been amazing about that. He’s pretty sure the entire university knows that Robb Stark is her brother and she knows all of the Direwolves quite well, but she always shakes her head when she’s asked – countless times – if she can get autographs from the band or even a campus visit. Jon can just imagine the mob that would happen if he, or any of the guys, visited Sansa while on campus and other students saw that they were there.

 

“She’s actually throwing up right now,” the girl answers as if she’s said that Sansa is out, picking daisies.

 

“What? Is she okay?” Jon asks, the panic evident in his voice and he stands up from the bed now.

 

“She’s fine,” the girl laughs. “Just too much to drink at the after-party.”

 

After-party. “You had a show tonight?” Jon asks and hates himself for not knowing her schedule. Sansa always knows the band’s schedule. How fair is that she knows theirs and Jon has no idea of hers?

 

“Yep, we did,” she answers and then pauses. “Are _you_ going to be coming to see one of the shows?”

 

This girl would probably love that a little too much, Jon guesses to himself, but he hates the answer he gives anyway. “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”

 

What if he could though? He could wear a disguise or something to hide himself from everyone else and really. The auditorium would be dark. He could get himself a seat in the back and stay hidden for a couple of hours while he’s finally able to see Sansa act on stage. He hasn’t seen her act yet and she’s been to how many of his shows?

 

Gods, there’s just more and more evidence piling up that makes Sansa’s anger towards him completely justified.

 

“Hannah, is that my phone?” He hears Sansa’s voice now and Jon stands perfectly straight, bracing himself.

 

He hears the girl, named Hannah, he assumes, beginning to laugh hysterically as she passes the phone off and her laughter grows distant as she walks away.

 

“Jon?” And then, Sansa’s voice floods his ear.

 

Immediately, he feels knots in his back he hasn’t even realized being there in the first place completely melt away.

 

“Sansa,” he breathes. “Sansa, I’m-”

 

“Wait,” she immediately cuts him off and he braces himself for her to end the call. 

 

He hears movement and then a door closing, the music on her end growing instantly muffled.

 

“I’m sorry Hannah called you. I’m normally so careful about that,” Sansa says.

 

Jon releases a breath he’s been holding when he realizes that she’s not hanging up on him. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t know that she was doing it. Are you feeling alright? She mentioned you were throwing up…”

 

“Oh, yes, I’m fine now, thank you. I need to stop with these after-parties...” she trails off, not offering anything more.

 

Her response is polite – _overly_ so and not at all the way Sansa usually talks with him and she doesn’t tell him anything more than she has to.

 

He breathes in deep. “Sansa, I am so sorry for everything. About not coming to your play and then… for what I said when you called. I didn’t mean it. Please believe me. I don’t know why I said that.”

 

Sansa is so quiet, he thinks, for a moment, that she _has_ hung up on him. But then he hears the softest sigh.

 

“I think…” she clears her throat. “Well, first, I’m sorry for calling you while I was tipsy like that. I had had too much champagne at the after-party and I should have known better than to call for a conversation with you while I was like that. And I think you said those things because… well, Jon, that’s just where we are right now, isn’t it?”

 

Jon slowly sinks down to sit on the edge of the bed, not liking where she’s going with his. His stomach is already knotted. “What do you mean?” He asks even though he’s honestly afraid to.

 

“You’re a Direwolf and I’m a college student. We don’t really have anything in common, do we?”

 

Jon’s stomach churns and he feels like he could possibly throw up at any moment. He grabs the joint still lit from the ashtray, smoke slowly swirling, on the table next to the bed and goes into the bathroom to flush it down the toilet.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jon tells her, stepping back into the bedroom.

 

“Did we ever have anything in common?” She then asks. “If there wasn’t Robb, would you and me even talk?”

 

“Of course we would talk,” he replies immediately, now frowning. “You’re my _best_ friend, Sansa. The absolute best friend that I have right now besides the other Direwolves.”

 

Sansa is quiet and he hopes she’s thinking that over; though what does she have to think over?

 

“You’ve said it yourself, Jon. I’m just a college student who’s just in college plays. If it’s a full house, that’s three hundred people. What was your concert at Red Keep Stadium? Thirty _thousand_?”

 

“What does that matter?” Jon shakes his head. “It _doesn’t_ matter, Sansa.”

 

“It matters to me,” Sansa says quietly, her voice thick. “You’re going through things right now and experiencing things that I’ll just never understand. Not like Ygritte.” She whispers the last part and Jon finds himself going still.

 

“Are you…” he pauses, wondering if he should continue. “Are you jealous of Ygritte?”

 

“Of course I am!” Sansa exclaims and Jon admits he hadn’t been expecting her to actually say that.

 

Hell, if Sansa had asked him if he was jealous of Harwin, Jon knows that he would deny, deny, deny even though the answer would be hell, yes, he’s jealous of Harwin for being able to call himself Sansa’s boyfriend.

 

“She gets to be with you and see you and I see pictures of all of the places you go. _Together_. And I’m…” she takes a deep breath. “I’m just a girl who’s the younger sister of your best mate.”

 

“Sansa, that’s not true,” he says as firmly as he can while trying to assure himself that the floor is _not_ shifting beneath his feet.

 

“I just need a bit of time, Jon,” she says softly. “I just need a bit of time away from you and I need to focus and think on things that aren’t you for a bit.”

 

Jon slowly sits down on the side of the bed again.

 

How can he argue with her? It’s what she wants. She can’t stand him right now and he deserves that. He’s done nothing as of late that would explain why she would want anything different.

 

So he says the only thing he can say past the thickness of his throat. “Whatever you want, Sansa, but… I’ll be right here. I mean it. I’m here, Sansa. Anytime you need me.”

 

He hears her sniffle and then exhale a shaky breath into the phone. He knows she’s about to start crying. “No, you’re not, Jon,” she whispers. “Goodbye,” she says just as her voice begins to shake even more and then Jon doesn’t hear anything.

 

He slowly pulls the phone away and looking to the screen, he sees that he has a new voice message. Probably from Ygritte. That’s honestly the last thing he wants to listen to right now. Instead, he opens the videos on his phone and goes to one that he has watched too many times to count now.

 

He can hear the guys still out in the hallway, laughing and flirting with the groupies out there, the girls talking and laughing in response. Someone is playing music and Jon knows they’ll probably be out there for most the night before each takes a groupie into their separate rooms. Jon lays back on his bed and decides to spend his evening, watching Sansa, as Hermia in _A Midsummer’s Night Dream_.

 

…

  


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many notes for this chapter. First, THANK YOU so, so much for the response you have been giving this story. I am behind on comments, once again, but I promise I will respond eventually. I read every single one and love every single one and it really just motivates me even more to keep telling this story. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit different as there is so much to cover, but it serves as the halfway point for the story to reach the second half of what I'm telling. The interview in the beginning is taken word for word of an interview Paul gave to the press. Theon's anger towards Jon and Robb not willing to give up space on the records is actually one of the reasons that led to the Beatles eventually breaking up - Theon being George and Jon and Robb being Paul and John in that instance. 
> 
> John's son, Julian, gave him the idea for "Lucy in the Sky" and Paul wrote "Hey, Jude" when he was thinking of what to say to Julian when he was on the way to see him and Cynthia after John and Cynthia separated. And lastly, the song Robb, Jon and Dickon are discussing is "A Day in the Life" - considered by many to be the Beatles' best song of them all. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much again and now, we are entering into the second half of the story!

…

 

“What do you think of the criticism that you’re not very good?” – A reporter

“We’re not.” – George Harrison

 

…

 

“Jon, how often have you taken LSD?” The reporter asks.

 

Jon takes a deep breath, already getting annoyed. “About four times.”

 

The reporter’s eyes seem to light up at his answer; as if he has stumbled upon something truly newsworthy. “Don’t you believe that this was a matter which you should have kept private?” He asks then.

 

Jon nearly smirks. One thing he has learned since the Direwolves hit it big, he really hates reporters. They’re all the same. All digging in the same dirt and none learning that all four members of the Direwolves are brutally honest – no matter what. If the reporters ask a question, the Direwolf will answer it honestly – no matter how it makes them come across in the process. Even though Sam wants them to be honest, it also drives him crazy at how much damage control he has to sometimes do for the lads.

 

“I mean, you’re spreading this now, at this moment, this is going into all of the homes in Westeros. And I’d rather it didn’t, you know, but you’re asking me the question. You want me to be honest. I’ll be honest,” Jon shrugs.

 

The reporter is like a dog now though and he’s gotten his bone. “But as a public figure,” he continues. “Surely, you’ve got a responsibility to not-”

 

Jon just shakes his head. “No, it’s _you_ who’s got the responsibility. You’ve got the responsibility not to spread this now. I’m quite prepared to keep it as a very personal thing if you will, too. If you’ll shut up about, I will.”

 

The reporter opens his mouth to say something further, but Sam steps in then.

 

“I think Jon’s said all he has to say about that subject, hmmm?” Sam asks the reporter.

 

“More than enough,” the reporter agrees.

 

Sam looks back to Jon. “You lads are going to kill me,” he murmurs just loud enough for only Jon to hear.

 

Jon just smiles and claps a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

 

…

 

Sam has just taken a bite of his apple when the lads finish telling him. He wishes it was time to take his blood pressure medication, to be honest.

 

He looks to Theon and Grenn and Jon before back to Robb, who had been doing the most talking.

 

“And you all feel this way?” He asks.

 

“Come on, Sam,” Robb says, sitting down next to their manager. “You know it’s true.”

 

“But if you stop touring…” Sam begins, but then trails off. If the Direwolves stop touring, what? What will happen?

 

It’s not like they’ve just told him that they’re going to stop making music altogether. They just want to stop touring and Sam has to admit that he agrees with them, for the most part. The shows are just becoming too much. Too many people, too much noise. The band can’t even hear themselves play most of the time over all of the screaming. And the last two shows had to be delayed for a couple of hours because a jackass had decided to call in a bomb threat at the arenas where the concerts were being held.

 

It’s stressful and tiring and Sam knows these guys well enough to see that they’re reaching the end of their ropes. Sam doesn’t want to be the one responsible for causing the Direwolves to burn out or break down.

 

“If that’s what you four really want to do, I’ll talk with the label, but… yes. If that’s what you want to do,” Sam agrees. “I suppose you have gotten too big for a manager anyway,” he then says and he doesn’t mean to sound as miserable as he knows he does right now.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Robb frowns at him.

 

“You’re not quitting, are you?” Theon asks, sounding a bit panicked.

 

“No, but, well…” he trails off once again. “I won’t be much help to you if you’re a strictly studio band. That’s more of Dickon’s territory.”

 

“Sure, you will be,” Grenn says. “You’re the one who always stops us all from killing each another.”

 

Sam nods. That’s very true. Robb sometimes gets in these moods and not even Jeyne or Jon can stop him from being an asshole and Theon gets angry because Jon and Robb fill the records with their own songs and Theon writes, too, but there never seems to be enough room for his work and Grenn pisses the other three off when he doesn’t seem to want to take any of it seriously and Jon, well, Jon gets into these quiet, brooding moods that after hours together, on the road or in the studio, it rubs the other three the wrong way. With Sam there, he’s able to extinguish almost all of the fights before they erupt into anything serious.

 

“Of course, we need you, Sam,” Jon speaks up. “You’re the fifth Direwolf.”

 

Sam looks at all of them again, a warmth spreading throughout his chest that he hasn’t felt since the day he asked Gilly to marry him and she had said yes. The fifth Direwolf. He likes the sound of that.

 

…

 

Sansa refuses to look anywhere, but his eyes. He deserves that.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says with a wobbly voice.

 

Harwin seems just as upset, but he manages a small smile. “It’s okay, Sansa,” he tells her, one of his hands covering both of hers that are in her lap. “Really.”

 

“No, Harwin, it’s really not okay,” she shakes her head quickly. “You’re… you’re _wonderful_ and I love you. I just-”

 

“Not in love with me. I know,” he nods.

 

“You know?” She asks in a hush.

 

“I think I’ve known for a long time. Probably since we began, if I’m being honest. I knew you would never be in love with me,” Harwin admits. “I’ve been mad about you for years, but I haven’t been the only one.”

 

Sansa stares at him and she feels as if her heart has stopped beating right then in her chest. She begins to shake her head. “I don’t…”

 

“Sansa,” Harwin says with the same small smile. “You know.”

 

Sansa exhales a shaky breath and one tear escapes, slowly making a path down her cheek. She’s not surprised when Harwin lifts a hand and wipes it away with his thumb. Even in the middle of her breaking up with him, he’s still so sweet and she wishes he would be an asshole. Just for once. Maybe that would make this easier if he was.

 

“I like you so much, Harwin,” Sansa tells him, looking at him again, his hand still lingering on her cheek. “I wanted to it so badly. But I can’t…”

 

“I know,” he nods. “You can’t force it if it’s not there.”

 

“Why aren’t you angry? Why aren’t you yelling? Why don’t you _hate_ me?” Sansa almost demands to know.

 

Harwin smiles a little easier now as his hand falls from her face. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll probably hate you tomorrow and I’ll get good and proper drunk tonight.”

 

Sansa lets out a laugh, but it comes out more a sob and she covers her face with her hands.

 

“Hey,” Harwin slides in close to her and puts his arm around her shoulders. “You know, I’m the one who just got dumped. _I’m_ the one who’s supposed to be crying.”

 

Sansa cries even harder. It’s not fair. Harwin is wonderful and kind and so thoughtful and he’s everything she should ever want in a guy and partner. Her brain knows this so why can’t she get her stupid heart on the same page? Do the heart and brain ever agree? Life would be so much easier if they did.

 

“Give me a bit of time though before your picture with him is plastered all over the tabloids, alright?” Harwin says, his arm still around her shoulder, still comforting _her_ even though she’s the one who just ended their relationship.

 

Sansa shakes her head. “It’s not like that, Harwin. I promise. We’re not speaking at the moment and even if we were, he has a girlfriend.”

 

They don’t need to use his name. They know exactly who the third person in the room with them right now is.

 

Harwin smirks and Sansa hears it, removing her hands from her face to look at him, frowning a little. His lips ease into a smile when he sees her confusion. “Sansa, you tell him that you don’t have a boyfriend anymore, and I guarantee you that he’ll be without a girlfriend pretty damn fast.”

 

…

 

“Daddy!” Jack exclaims when Jeyne opens the front door and the boy runs into the house, Jeyne following behind, finding Robb and Jon in the family room with their guitars, playing, writing and working.

 

Robb has recently purchased a home for his family – finally getting Jeyne and Jack out of his parents’ house and getting themselves a place where they can be a family together. It’s still in Wintertown, technically, but is so far out in the country, they have the privacy that being a Direwolf now requires.

 

“There he is!” Robb grins and sits up on the couch, setting his guitar aside just in time as Jack throws himself into his arms and Robb laughs, hugging him tight. “How was preschool today?”

 

Jack eagerly takes off his backpack and unzips it, reaching in and producing a piece of blue construction paper.

 

“Here, daddy!”

 

“Wow, look at that,” Robb says, admiring his son’s drawing. Jon leans over the back of the couch so he can see it, too, smiling when he does. “What is this?” Robb asks Jack.

 

“This is my friend, Lucy!” Jack explains excitedly, pointing to his crayon drawing of what’s supposed to be a girl and it looks like she’s floating. “And these are diamonds and she’s floating in the sky!”

 

Jon chuckles. “Looks good, Jack,” he compliments the boy with a smile and Jack beams.

 

Robb is staring at the picture though. He then looks to his son. “Say that again, Jack.”

 

“This is Lucy and she’s floating in the sky and these are diamonds!” Jack explains, pointing to everything.

 

“Not stars?” Robb asks.

 

“Nope! Diamonds!”

 

Robb looks back down to the picture for another long minute and Jon can practically see Robb’s wheels turning.

 

…

 

“What do you think?” Jon asks, looking to Dickon as he and Robb finish playing the rough cut.

 

Dickon is sitting in a chair beside the piano in the studio, not playing, just listening. And he has gone very still. But at Jon’s question, he shakes his head slightly. He looks to Jon and then to Robb.

 

“I think…” he shakes his head again. “I think it’s one of the best songs I’ve ever heard.”

 

Jon exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he’s been holding. “It’s a little different…”

 

“It’s perfect,” Dickon cuts in, getting to his feet and taking the sheet music to look over it closely. “This, here. These empty twenty-four bars. What goes here?”

 

“We were hoping you knew,” Robb says. “We were thinking an orchestra, but playing what, we can’t decide.”

 

“Something you don’t hear every day,” Jon clarifies.

 

“Obviously, but if we can put you, playing your sitar, in songs, what’s pushing forward a bit more?” Dickon smiles, still looking at the blank space on the sheet that must be filled with something. “Play it for me again and let me think on that. We’ll get it.”

 

He moves aside so Robb can sit back down at the piano and he begins to play the song from the beginning, Dickon looking over the sheet music as he does.

 

_“I read the news today, oh boy,_

_About a lucky man who made the grade…”_

…

 

After dropping Jack off at preschool for the day, Jeyne has to run a few errands in town. The market and then picking up some fresh art supplies. With Jack in school now, Jeyne is able to return to her art and she hasn’t realized how much she has missed it until she began painting once again in her free time.

 

When she enters the house, she expects it to be quiet. She expects Robb to still be sleeping. It isn’t though. When she enters the house, she hears a giggle. A very feminine giggle. And she freezes just inside the front door when she does.

 

No. It’s not… it’s not what it sounds like. Robb wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that in their _home_ that he has bought for their family. He wouldn’t do… well, he wouldn’t do that when she could so easily walk in on him.

 

As soon as Jeyne rounds the corner and looks into the family room, she drops her bags and turns right back around.

 

“Jeyne!” Robb rushes in after her. “I thought… you were running errands.”

 

Jeyne won’t turn around to look at him again. “I had to come home eventually, Robb. You _know_ that.”

 

Robb exhales a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

 

_That_ makes Jeyne spin around to look at him. He’s only in his boxers and she has a quick vision of shoving him as hard as she can. He will lose his footing and trip over the bags and he’ll fall and injure himself. Maybe he won’t be able to even play guitar anymore. For one moment, she can see it all so clearly and it’s wonderful.

 

Instead though, she begins crying and can’t stop.

 

Robb doesn’t step in to put his arms around her and she realizes that that speaks more than finding him in their family room with some blonde could ever say.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I… I want a divorce, Jeyne.”

 

She just keeps crying and her chest begins hurting and she can’t say anything at all.

 

“I’m sorry, Jeyne. I’m so sorry.”

 

Jeyne is able to stop her tears and her heart plummeting to her feet long enough to raise her hand and slap him right across the face.

 

…

 

Jon wants to punch him. For the band, for Jeyne, for Jack. Robb deserves to get his ass beat right now if Jon’s being honest. Jon thinks that Robb, for once, needs to be shown how much of an asshole he is so he will never forget it.

 

He looks at Robb, sitting on the couch in Jon’s mom’s living room, his head hung as he stares down to the carpeted floor, and he thinks of his dad. He’s never met him – some married louse who promised his mom the world, but when she became pregnant, he left – but right in this moment, Jon looks at Robb and thinks that Robb must have a hell of a lot in common with the mysterious man.

 

Both treat women who they claim to love like absolute shit.

 

He thinks of Jeyne and Jack. Gods, Robb and Jeyne have been together since they were _fourteen_ and now, Robb has just thrown that all away for some groupie he met in Tarth.

 

“Please, Jon,” Robb finally speaks after the heavy silence lasts for so many minutes. He lifts his head and Jon can see that his best mate is crying. “Please don’t hate me. I couldn’t stand it if you hated me, too.”

 

Jon sighs heavily and doesn’t know what to say. He’s still too angry and too much in shock, he supposes. If he speaks right now, he’ll say the first thing on his mind and he’ll just come to regret it and make things even worse.

 

“Please, Jon.” Robb stands up from the couch and comes to stand in front of Jon, putting his hands on his shoulders, his eyes bloodshot. “I won’t be able to handle it if you hate me, too.”

 

He begins to cry again and holding onto Jon’s shoulders, he hangs his head, and Jon can’t think of doing anything other than bringing his best mate into a hug and letting Robb cry on his shoulder.

 

…

 

Even when Jon gets into his car and pulls out of his mom’s garage, he still has no idea what he’s going to say. He’s been trying to go over everything in his mind. I’m sorry this happened? I’m here for you and Jack? Of course, he will be. Robb is his best mate, but Jeyne means so much to him as well and so does Jack. Just because Robb fucked up and ruined it doesn’t mean that Jon has to leave Jeyne and Jack behind, too.

 

Still though, what exactly does someone say in a situation like this? I’m sorry Robb’s a complete fuck-wit?

 

Hmmmm. Actually, that might work.

 

Jon leaves the radio off as he drives from his mom’s house towards Robb and Jeyne’s house – just Jeyne’s house now, he supposes, though he wonders if she will want to remain in it. Robb mentioned that when he told Jeyne that he wants a divorce so he can be with Daenerys, he also told her that she and Jack could stay in the house. He wonders if Jeyne even wants it.

 

He also doesn’t know what to say to Jack. He wonders what Jeyne has said to him and why his daddy has moved out. How does anyone explain this kind of situation to a four-year-old?

 

“Hey, Jack,” Jon says out loud, practicing his tone and his words. He wants both to be perfect so he doesn’t upset the boy even more than Jon knows he already is. “Hey, Jack,” he tries again and then finds himself humming a bar. “And anytime you feel the pain… Hey, Jack… Don’t carry… don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.”

 

Jon hums another couple of bars to himself of the song he seems to be making up right then without him even realizing it. “Huh,” Jon comments to himself.

 

He pulls into the driveway and is still humming as he approaches the front door but stops himself from continuing. He can work on the song later. He has something far more important to do right now.

 

He presses the doorbell and listens to it loudly echo in the house. He realizes too late that Jeyne might not want to see him. He’s Robb’s best mate and in her anger and her hurt, Jeyne might hold Jon responsible for Robb’s actions.

 

But when he hears the turn of the locks, he straightens and waits, holding his breath, and when the door opens, he keeps holding his breath because who answers the door is the last person he is ever expecting to see. It’s been almost five months since he’s seen her or talked with her – just like she’s wanted – and it’s been five months since he has tried everything he could think of to get her out of his mind. Failing spectacularly, but still trying nonetheless.

 

He looks at her and feels as if he might never breathe again.

 

“Sansa.”

 

…


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you as always. I mean it. Your enthusiasm and comments for this story really get me so excited to just keep writing these chapters and updating so THANK YOU!
> 
> Not that many notes for this chapter. The song Jon begins to think in his head is "Good Day Sunshine" - as I've mentioned before, I am switching around the Beatles catalog and when songs were released - and the solo song he is talking with Sansa about is "Blackbird" from The White Album. I actually have a scene of Jon writing for the White Album that I am so eager to write, but working on this album will span a couple of chapters.

…

 

“We knew it was coming, but we tried to pretend we didn’t know it was coming.” – Paul McCartney

 

…

 

Sansa has not spoken with him nor has she seen him in person for months now, but that doesn’t mean that she hasn’t seen him. She follows all sorts of Direwolves-devoted Tumblr accounts and anytime she logs on, she is inundated with pictures of the four guys so having seen Jon over the past few months, whether she has actually wanted to or not, hasn’t been that difficult. What _has_ been difficult is seeing those pictures of Jon with Ygritte accompanied with tags like _#truelove_ or _#perfection_ or the ever popular _#pleasegetmarriedandhavebabies_.

 

Even though she had been the one to tell him that she needed space – and that had been the absolute truth – that doesn’t mean that she hasn’t missed him. She thinks of what he had said during their last phone conversation; that he looks to her as his best friend and Sansa realizes that she considers Jon to be the same for her. Over these past few years, in the midst of the absolute insanity that has surrounded the band, Sansa has still found herself able to talk with Jon about anything and he has been able to do the same for her. They might not have seen one another as one might see their best friend, but that hadn’t seemed to matter to either of them. They missed one another, but as long as they had been able to talk…

 

Sansa just wonders when her ever-present crush on Jon had actually turned into full-blown love. Because it has. She looks at Jon Snow now standing on the front porch of Jeyne and Robb’s house and she knows that she loves him and she just doesn’t love him, but she’s _in_ love with him, too.

 

“Sansa,” he seems to breathe her name as his eyes land on her and register that it’s actually her.

 

And despite the situation of what has brought them face-to-face, Sansa finds herself smiling faintly, her heart churning in her chest just from hearing his voice in person and not in an interview or song on YouTube.

 

Without saying anything in return, she steps to him and her arms circle around his shoulders. Jon doesn’t even seem to wait even one second before his arms are around her, hugging her; too tightly, but she won’t complain.

 

“It’s good to see you, Jon,” she tells him honestly when she steps back again, looking into his face once more.

 

He looks at her closely at that comment; studying her. “Is it?” He wonders.

 

Sansa wets her lips with the very tip of her tongue and nods her head. “It is,” she confirms. “I… I’ve missed you.”

 

“I’ve missed you, too,” his words are instant and Sansa finds herself relieved to hear them.

 

A part of her has been waiting for Jon to not have thought of her at all over these past months with no contact. The band has stopped touring, but they’ve still been churning new music out every few months. Sansa has thought that perhaps he’s just been too busy being a Direwolf to miss her. But one thing she has is relieved to find that she’s still able to do, she can still read Jon and she doesn’t see even a hint of him not saying the truth right now.

 

“It’s good you’re here,” Sansa then says, changing topics.

 

“How is she?” Jon asks in a soft voice, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting to see Jeyne standing there now.

 

Sansa just shakes her head and then steps back so Jon can finally enter the house as well.

 

Jeyne is in the kitchen, drinking a rather large glass of red wine and her eyes are red, but she isn’t crying any longer. Sansa can see Jon brace himself when Jeyne sees him come into the room and Sansa knows that he’s probably expecting Jeyne to smack him or something along those lines, but instead, Jeyne sets her glass down, comes around the island counter in the middle of the room and hugs him. Jon hugs her tightly and murmurs something in Jeyne’s ear that’s too low for Sansa to hear; not that it’s any of her business what Jon says to Jeyne in this moment; in this situation.

 

“Would you like some wine?” Jeyne asks, stepping back to collect Jon a glass from the cabinet and together, the three stand at the island, drinking from the bottle that’s just about empty now. “So, am I an idiot for actually being surprised? I mean, he’s been doing this since we were in high school and I knew it, but he’s never flaunted it and he’s _never_ brought one of them around me.”

 

Sansa goes to her friend and puts an arm around her shoulders. “He’s an ass,” Sansa tells her and she doesn’t care right now that Robb is her brother and that she loves him. She can still love him and completely hate him, too.

 

When Jeyne had confided to Sansa during their trip to Pentos to visit the guys, Sansa honestly hadn’t _wanted_ to believe it. She couldn’t imagine that Robb, her big brother who she loved and who loved her, would ever do something like that. Their parents raised them so much better than to be the kind of people who would think of doing these kinds of things; let alone actually doing them to their spouses and children.

 

“I’m sorry, Jeyne,” Jon then says. “I’m sorry for not saying anything or doing anything…”

 

Jeyne shrugs and gives him a sad smile. “We both knew what he was doing, Jon, and I stayed. Besides, Robb is a grown man and no one is responsible for what he does except for Robb.”

 

“That’s right,” Sansa agrees. “And if it makes you feel any better, the Starks are firmly on yours and Jack’s side. You should have heard the threats Arya was saying towards Robb.”

 

Jeyne’s smile is still sad and fresh tears flood her eyes. “Your parents have already offered me and Jack our old rooms in their house, but I can’t do that. Despite everything, Robb is their son and your brother.”

 

“We will gladly trade him in for you and Jack,” Sansa assures her and from the corner of her eye, she can see Jon smiling a little at that.

 

“Where is Jack?” Jon asks. “Is he… I was hoping to see him?”

 

“Of course, Jon,” Jeyne gives him a small smile. “Theon’s actually out back with him.”

 

“Theon’s here?” Jon seems surprised at that, but then shakes his head at himself. Theon’s been part of this family just as long as any of them. “Of course he’s here,” he then says to himself. “I’ll head out there.” He drains the rest of his wine quickly, but before he can leave the kitchen, they all hear the back door open and then a moment later, Theon, with Jack at his side, holding his hand, enter the kitchen.

 

“Look, Jack,” Theon smiles when he sees Jon.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Jon goes and Jack lets go of Theon’s hand so Jon can pick him up. “Hey,” he then says to Theon and shifting Jack to one arm, Jon holds out his other hand and Theon slaps it before grasping it.

 

“I don’t know how I’m going to deal with being in the studio with him, if I’m being honest,” Theon admits.

 

Jeyne’s shoulders begin to shake and Sansa pulls her into a hug as tears begin streaming from Jeyne’s eyes again and Sansa feels tears prick her own eyes as she murmurs words of comfort to Jeyne while trying to console her. She lifts her head and finds Jon watching them and their eyes meet.

 

She looks at Jon and is almost relieved to still think what she always thinks when he’s near.

 

She feels better that he’s here.

 

…

 

They stay for hours and when they all finally leave, it’s dusk and they’ve spent nearly the whole day with Jeyne and Jack. They say goodbye to Theon and then Jon walks at Sansa’s side as she goes to her car.

 

“I actually need to be going,” she says once she unlocks the doors. “I have rehearsal.”

 

“What play?” Jon asks.

 

“ _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof._ I’m Maggie,” Sansa says and can’t help, but smile. “Mrs. Crane and I were talking. I didn’t even want to try out for it, to be honest. I’ve fallen in love with all of the Shakespeare roles and think I might keep that as my focus, but Mrs. Crane convinced me. I can’t believe I got the part, to be honest.”

 

“I’m not surprised,” Jon says and she can tell that he means it. He swallows and he seems nervous, but he keeps his eyes on hers. “Could I… do you think I could come watch you rehearse?”

 

Sansa pauses even though she knows that she would _love_ for him to come and watch her. In all of these years, he’s actually never seen her act if it isn’t on a video on a phone.

 

“I don’t think you could come,” she says and Jon nods even though she’s not finished.

 

“I understand. I wouldn’t want to distract you and… well, I don’t want to push myself back into your life if you still don’t want me there,” Jon says and takes a step back.

 

As he does, Sansa’s hand shoots out and she grasps his arm, stopping him.

 

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think you could come, looking like _you_ ,” she says with a small smile. “You would be a ridiculous distraction and we’d have a mob on our hands.”

 

“Oh.” Jon looks at her, slowly breaking into a smile and he sighs – with relief, Sansa thinks. “Right. I… I forgot.”

 

Sansa smiles with a raised eyebrow. “You can forget that you cause mobs wherever you go?” She teases.

 

Jon is still smiling, but now he looks shy as he glances away and shrugs. “I wish I could forget,” he admits, looking back to her and he’s staring at her and Sansa feels her stomach churning almost uncomfortably.

 

She thinks of what Harwin had told her when they had broken up.

 

_“I’ve been mad about you for years, but I haven’t been the only one.”_

Is that true? Is Jon’s stomach churning right now just like hers?

 

“I might have a hat in my car…” Sansa thinks out loud. “Would you mind wearing a disguise?”

 

“I’ll wear anything,” Jon readily agrees and he’s staring at her with those intense eyes of his and Sansa opens her mouth to tell her about Harwin and how they’re broken up now, but she doesn’t want to tell him; not while he’s still with Ygritte. Because what if she does tell him and he breaks up immediately with Ygritte just as Harwin had told her that Jon would do? Sansa doesn’t want to be responsible for that. As far as she knows, Jon and Ygritte love one another and if she caused pain to someone – like Robb has caused to Jeyne – Sansa couldn’t bear that.

 

“Alright,” Sansa smiles. “Let’s see what we can do.”

 

…

 

“You can be young without money, but you can’t be old without it. You’ve got to be old _with_ money because to be old without it is just too awful, you’ve got to be one or the other, either _young_ or _with money_ , you can’t be old and _without_ it. That’s the _truth_ , Brick… Well, now I’m dressed, I’m all dressed, there’s nothing else for me to do. I’m dressed, all dressed, nothing else for me to do…”

 

The lights over the seats in the auditorium are off and the lights from the stage are shining brightly so seeing him out there would be difficult and in his disguise, everyone else who isn’t Sansa probably thinks he’s just her friend that she’s brought along to rehearsals. She had had a spare skull cap in her car that she wears herself when she has to wear wigs over her long red hair. Jon’s black curls are too recognizable to everyone and she had laughed as she put the cap on, shoving all of his hair inside of it, and Jon had smiled because Sansa laughing is still one of his favorite sounds in all of the world. She had then put a black baseball cap on his head – WW embroidered in white stitching for Winterfell Wolves – and Jon admitted, while looking his reflection in the car window, _he_ didn’t even recognize himself. He doubted anyone else would be able to.

 

Jon sits in his seat, watching Sansa acting up on the stage, and he can’t take his eyes off of her.

 

He has known just how good she is - if the amount of views of _A Midsummer’s Night Dream_ on his phone shows anything, but to see her acting, in person – finally, after all of this time – Jon feels like she’s taking his breath away. Not that he’s any expert at all about stage plays and the actors in them, but he knows that Sansa is amazing. And it just makes him hate himself even more for not being able to come to see her sooner.  

 

He watches her after five months of not seeing her in person and after five months of not hearing her voice and he feels like he can actually feel the blood moving through his veins.

 

Gods, he’s missed her and even when he’s thinking it, he knows it’s not a strong enough word for what he’s actually felt. Having Sansa near him again and being near her in return, it’s like having the sun finally shining again after the longest Northern winter.

 

_Good day, sunshine…_

Sansa finishes her scene and then steps back so the other actors can move into the next scene to practice. Jon expects her to go backstage and wait for her next cue, but instead, she comes down the stage’s side stairs and she walks up the aisle towards him. Jon sits up in his seat as she approaches and they are both smiling as she lowers herself into the seat beside his.

 

“Well?” Sansa asks with a smile, her cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink, and Gods, Jon has to clench his hands into his fists on his thighs because all he wants to do right then is drag her to him and kiss her.

 

“You’re amazing,” Jon breathes.

 

It’s hard to see it clearly with the dark of the auditorium, but Jon imagines that her blush deepens at his words.

 

“When is opening night for this one?” He asks her.

 

The question makes her smile fade and she shakes her head. “Don’t,” she says in a quiet tone. “I can’t stand another promise and getting my hopes up and finding out that you’re not here again.”

 

This time, Jon does reach a hand and he allows himself to touch her hand. “I’m sorry, Sansa. I can’t say that enough to you, but I want you to know how sorry I am for everything. I should have never promised because even when I did, I wanted to come more than anything, but knew I probably wouldn’t be able to make it, but I promised anyway and it was such an asshole thing to do to you.”

 

Sansa doesn’t say anything to that and instead, she looks down to his hand over hers. His thumb begins running slowly back and forth over her knuckles and he swears he feels her shiver. Or was that him?

 

“I… can I see you tomorrow?” Jon asks. “I have to go to the studio in the morning and then I have to take care of something else, but… I’ve been looking for a house to buy for my mom. I want to get her out of Winterown. Too many people know where she lives and I worry about her being there by herself when I can’t be there and I… I have no idea how to look for a house,” he says and Sansa smiles at that.

 

“I would love to help you.”

 

He smiles at that, relieved that Sansa wants to spend more time with him.

 

She looks so pretty, smiling and blushing and looking down to his thumb still rubbing over her knuckles and that same urge to kiss her until neither of them can breathe is rising within his chest again, nearly making him shake.

 

He can’t do this anymore. He’ll go to the studio tomorrow morning and then he’ll talk to Ygritte and then he’ll go spend the rest of the day with Sansa, looking at houses. Even if Sansa is with Harwin – even if they’re serious and who wouldn’t be serious if they were dating Sansa? – Jon can’t do this anymore. He needs to end it with Ygritte. He loves her, but he’s not in love with her and it might seem small, but it’s a small thing that means everything. He can’t be with one girl while he’s madly in love with another; even if that other has a boyfriend.

 

“What are you working on at the studio?” Sansa asks.

 

“It’s a song that’s just me,” Jon says and Sansa looks surprised at that. He smiles. “I know. A solo Jon Snow. Who the hell would want that?”

 

Sansa rolls her eyes. “A lot of people, you idiot.”

 

Jon lets out a laugh before he can stop himself and he puts a hand over his mouth, hoping he hasn’t disturbed rehearsals, but then Sansa giggles softly and he looks at her with a smile.

 

“Sansa?”

 

Both turn to see a woman on stage and Jon assumes that she’s Mrs. Crane. Sansa has talked about her ever since her very first week at school when she was a freshman and Jon knows that she’s her favorite professor; the professor who told her almost right away that Sansa could make it on the stage if that’s what she wants.

 

“Your cue is coming up,” the woman smiles and Sansa nods, smiling in return, before looking back to Jon.

 

“Will you… will you stay for a bit longer?” She asks him.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, his eyes never leaving hers even as she rises to her feet again.

 

Sansa doesn’t say anything to that. She just gives him a smile and then she turns, hurrying back to the stage. Jon hadn’t said _I promise_. He’s going to be a lot more careful from now on in saying those two words to Sansa, but in this case, even if he hasn’t said it, he hopes that Sansa has heard it nonetheless and when he’s still sitting here at the end of her rehearsal, she’ll hopefully see that he intends on keeping his promises to her from now on.

 

…

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was always my intent with this story that while the Direwolves were riding high, Jon and Sansa's relationship was at a low and while their relationship is beginning to rise higher, the Direwolves are beginning to implode. We are going to have the White Album sessions coming up and I cannot wait to write those. As John Lennon has said about the White Album, "the break-up of the Beatles can be heard on that album".
> 
> A quick note for this chapter: The particular song in this chapter was written almost entirely by John Lennon and sung by George, but I'm having it used as Jon's in this chapter for reasons. I really love the story behind it, too. Per John Lennon: The song was inspired by "I'm Wishing", a tune from Walt Disney’s 1937 animated film Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs which Lennon's mother, Julia Lennon, would sing to him as a child. The first two lines of the song in Disney's movie ("Want to know a secret? Promise not to tell?"). As I have said before, I have switched some of the Beatles catalog around.
> 
> THANK YOU so much for reading and commenting and enjoying this strange story of mine.

…

 

“The Beatles were the band that made me realize it was possible to make a living as a musician. When I heard the Beatles, I said, ‘That’s what I want to do!’” – Billy Joel

 

…

 

Jon isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but it’s definitely not silence.

 

Ygritte sits there and stares at him and is _silent_. It kind of is freaking him out if he’s being honest with himself. He’s never known Ygritte to be quiet, let alone silent, in all of the time they’ve been dating. Jon’s tempted to talk again – just to fill the silence – but he feels like he’s already said enough and he’ll just keep waiting for her to speak.

 

He’s laid it all out; how he’s not in love with her; how he wants to break up; how he’s in love with someone else and he’s ready to try to be with her. He doesn’t mention Sansa’s name. Ygritte doesn’t need to know it. Jon knows that, eventually, _everyone_ will know Sansa’s name because, unfortunately, he can’t go anywhere without having his picture taken and if Sansa’s with him, most Direwolf fans already know her from being Robb’s younger sister. Jon wonders how Sansa would feel about getting her picture taken all of the time as the girlfriend of a band member. Photographers and fans alike can be relentless and the fans aren’t necessarily nice to the women in the Direwolf lives. Gods, does Jon even want to expose her to that?

 

Jon stops his thoughts. He’s getting ahead of himself. He and Ygritte aren’t even technically broken up yet and Sansa already has a boyfriend and is already in a relationship and he doesn’t know how serious she and Harwin are. Jon admits that in the course of Sansa and Harwin’s relationship, he has wanted to hear very little about it. They could be days away from getting engaged and Jon would have no idea.

 

It doesn’t matter though. He’s not going to stay with Ygritte no matter if Sansa is with another man or not. It’s not fair to Ygritte and it’s not fair to him. Ygritte is beautiful and famous in her own right and she should be with a man who actually wants to be with her; a man who’s actually in love with her.

 

Ygritte is still silent as she turns on the stool at the vanity in her dressing room, pumping a small dollop of lotion into her palm and then rubbing it into her hands and arms.

 

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” she finally speaks.

 

“You’re not?”

 

“Well, you’ve been miserable for the past few months. More so than usual. It was actually getting to be ridiculous,” Ygritte comments, turning back towards him. “Have you been miserable because of us?”

 

“No,” Jon shakes his head. “The past few months, they’ve had nothing to do with you.”

 

“Ouch,” she replies, but Jon sees that she’s smiling a little – her lips twisted in that way she does when he knows she’s teasing him. Jon has learned in his time with Ygritte that she’s actually almost always teasing him. “Well,” she sighs. “Alright then.”

 

“Alright?” Jon repeats and admits, he hadn’t been expecting it to be this easy.

 

He and Ygritte have been together for some time now and they were pretty serious for a while, too. The tabloids have been relentless in guessing when they were going to announce their engagement or that Ygritte was pregnant. Jon admits to being overly-cautious to make sure that he and Ygritte haven’t even had a pregnancy scare in all of this time. Having a child with a woman he didn’t even know he wanted to be with for the rest of his life wasn’t exactly the ideal situation, in his opinion.

 

“I had fun, Jon. Did you have fun?” Ygritte asks.

 

“Yes,” Jon answers, almost cautiously as if she’s in the middle of laying a trap for him.

 

“But you’re not having fun anymore?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well, alright then.” Ygritte shrugs. “I do have to admit that being a Direwolf girlfriend isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” she then admits.

 

“It isn’t?” Jon asks, not entirely sure what she means.

 

“When a girl’s in a relationship, they expect to be number one in their boyfriend’s life. They don’t expect to be behind three other guys,” Ygritte answers simply.

 

Jon isn’t too sure what to say that; mainly because it’s true. Robb, Theon and Grenn have always been more important if Jon’s being honest. They’re bandmates. Best mates. They’ve been through everything together and no one else understands what it’s like being in the Direwolves other than the Direwolves.

 

He wonders – if he and Sansa are ever together – if it will ever be like that for them. Will Sansa feel fourth in his life? Will she someday come to hate him for that? Jon realizes that that’s the difference though. Sansa is the _right_ girl for him and if he has her in his life, he can’t imagine not ever having her as the _most_ important thing in his life.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jon tells Ygritte.

 

Ygritte reaches out and pinches him, Jon jumping from the surprise of it. “Shut up, no you’re not.” Her lips are in that teasing smile again and Jon finds himself smirking.

 

He has to admit – he was not expecting the breakup to go this well.

 

“Why aren’t you more upset?” He has to ask.

 

“Oh. Well…” Ygritte looks almost regretful now. “I’ve met someone else. We haven’t done anything,” she then quickly tells him before he can ask. “I just…”

 

“You want to do something,” Jon finishes.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ygritte says, but she actually doesn’t sound sorry at all and Jon doesn’t expect her to be. It’s just the way it is. Two people come together and sometimes, two people run their course before going off separately.

 

“No, you’re not,” Jon takes his turn to say, smirking again, and Ygritte lets out a laugh.

 

“You can’t blame me,” she then states matter-of-factly. “You’ve been a miserable bastard for months now, Jon Snow.”

 

Jon doesn’t even try to deny that. Sansa and he haven’t been talking for five months, but thankfully, that has seemed to have passed – if going to her play rehearsals and she helping him house-hunt are indicators – and Jon hopes he’s not in a perpetually shitty mood like that ever again. But with Sansa back in his life now, he can only hope that he’ll never lose her again to send him spiraling again.

 

“Could you do me a favor?” Ygritte asks, breaking into his thoughts.

 

“Yes,” he readily agrees.

 

“Could we keep this between us? Just for now? I have that movie premiere coming soon and the press junket… well, I don’t want the whole thing to be about our breakup,” Ygritte says.

 

Jon nods. “I understand. You tell me when you want to come out with it and we’ll release a statement.”

 

“Thank you, Jon,” Ygritte smiles with relief.

 

“Just a couple of weeks though, right?”

 

Ygritte lifts an eyebrow. “Wanting to move on already?”

 

“What? Are you going to be screwing that guy in secret?” Jon asks in return.

 

“Yes, a couple of weeks,” she promises with an eye roll.

 

She stands up then and Jon stands up, too, the two embracing one another in a final, farewell hug.

 

“Take care of yourself, yeah?” Jon says as he goes to her dressing room door.

 

“You, too,” Ygritte says and turns to watch him go. “One more thing.”

 

“Another favor?” He asks with a wry twist of his lips.

 

Ygritte reaches out to pinch him again. “Your muse, are you finally going to tell her?”

 

Jon feels his eyes widen. “How…” he can’t think of how to finish the question though.

 

“I’m not an idiot, Jon,” Ygritte informs him. “Some of your best love songs were written way before we met. They had to have been written with _someone_ in mind.”

 

Jon is quiet for a moment, thinking of how much he wants to tell Ygritte, his now ex-girlfriend. At least she doesn’t seem to be angry about this whole thing and Jon has actually never been the one to say that Ygritte was his muse – some celebrity website had started it, stating it as fact, and everyone just hopped onto it and Jon had actually never come out and tell anyone that no, Ygritte isn’t his muse, but rather, it’s another redhead in his life.

 

“She has a boyfriend,” Jon answers. “I think… I think she’s happy.”

 

“Have you asked her if she is?” Ygritte wonders.

 

“It’s never come up,” Jon shakes his head and he knows he can’t tell Ygritte that he likes to think that if Sansa wasn’t happy, he would know it without needing her to ever actually say it.

 

But that was before the five months of no contact. Anything could have happened over five months. Maybe he can’t read her as well as he thought he always could; or maybe he could never read her like he thought he could.

 

Ygritte sighs in that way she does when she’s completely impatient with him. “So, make it come up, Jon.”

 

“Easy as that, huh?” Jon smirks a little.

 

“Why can’t it be?” Ygritte asks.

 

Jon opens his mouth to respond before realizing that he doesn’t actually have a reply to that. Ygritte might have a point. Why can’t it be that easy?

 

…

 

**The Present.**

After they leave the house he has bought for her, Jon drives Lyanna back home – the home that will be hers for now, until they get her moved. He knows that it will take some time for her to get used to living in a house like that, but Jon knows she’ll get used to it. She has fallen in love with the garden and the idea of being able to garden and their little house in Wintertown with the little postage-stamp backyard doesn’t give her enough room to do so.

 

He pulls into the garage, closing the big door behind them, and Lyanna smiles from the passenger seat before leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

 

“You are very sweet, Jon,” she smiles at him then.

 

Jon smiles, blushing a little at the compliment. “Someone raised me right.”

 

“You want something to eat?”

 

“Actually, I’m going to give Sansa a call. See if she wants to hang out for a bit,” Jon answers and he’s not going to say anything more; not while he doesn’t know if there’s more to tell.

 

Lyanna just smiles and there’s something about his mum’s smile. She’s smiling like she knows something and it’s possibly a something that Jon should know, too.

 

“Have fun, dear,” is all she says though and she leaves the car, Jon watching as she goes into the house before he pulls out his cell phone and gives Sansa a call.

 

“Hey,” Sansa answers and he can hear her smiling and it makes him smile, too. “I knew she would love it.”

 

“It was the flower garden,” Jon tells her.

 

“I knew it!” She exclaims and Jon lets out a laugh. “Do you want to come over? We can celebrate.”

 

“Yes,” Jon doesn’t even hesitate in answering. “I was actually going to ask if I could come over.”

 

“Come!” Sansa says and she sounds so happy and it makes Jon’s stomach clench. “I'll make us something to eat for dinner!”

 

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Jon promises and no sooner does he end the call that he’s pulling out of the garage and tries to keep himself from speeding to get to Sansa all that much sooner.

 

For Sansa’s junior year at university, she and her parents decided to move her out of the dorms and get a little flat for herself close to campus. Jon has yet to see if for himself, but he’s just relieved that he doesn’t have to deal with a dorm filled with people and a possible roommate. Jon knows he’s going to do this tonight – no more waiting, he’s waited long enough; _years_ – but he’s relieved that he’s going to do this when it’s just him and Sansa.

 

The building is an old two-story brownstone that someone remodeled and when Jon looks at the buttons on the wall, he sees _S. Stark_ is on the second floor. He presses the button and a moment later, he hears the intercom.

 

“Jon?” Sansa speaks through it.

 

“It’s me,” Jon confirms, smiling already just from hearing her voice.

 

The door unlocks with a click and Jon heads up to the second-floor apartment door. Before he can knock though, Sansa has already unlocked it and is standing there, waiting. She looks adorable, Jon thinks, in black leggings, a massive grey sweater and thick grey socks on her feet. Her hair is pulled back into a loose braid and she’s looking at him with a smile. Jon feels as if he’s getting home after the longest time away and she’s here, waiting for him.

 

“You brought your guitar?” She asks when she sees the case in his hand.

 

“I did. I… I wrote a new song and I want you to be the first to hear it,” Jon explains and she smiles at that.

 

She steps back and Jon follows her into the flat. It smells like the faintest whiff of strawberries. Jon has noticed that Sansa had changed her scent sometime over these past few years. When they were in high school, she had smelled like coconuts and then, one day, Jon had caught a whiff of her and she was now smelling like strawberries. He had even written a song about it the year before for one of their albums.

 

There are only a few select lamps on, giving the rooms a soft, warm glow.

 

“I was going to show off my culinary skills and make spaghetti,” Sansa smiles and Jon gives her an eye-crinkling smile at that as he finishes looking around to look at her.

 

“Sounds amazing,” he says.

 

“Make yourself at home,” Sansa says before going into the kitchen.

 

Jon exhales a heavy breath as if he’s been holding it and goes to set his guitar case down. He notices picture frames on the fireplace mantel and he goes to take a look, smiling as he looks over them – most of her family, a few with her in various college productions with friends, one of her and Mrs. Crane. The one at the end makes him pick it up for a closer look.

 

It’s a picture of the two of them. He doesn’t even remember getting it taken; he seems completely unaware of the camera. It’s at Uncle Benjen’s wedding from years earlier – he’s wearing his suit and Jon remembers how beautiful Sansa had looked that night in her yellow dress. They are standing at the bar in the reception hall, Jon holding a drink in one hand, Sansa holding hers with both hands, and he’s saying something with a smile – he has no idea what – but whatever it is, the little black plastic straw is between Sansa’s lips and she’s smiling and looking at him. It’s some completely candid, random moment a hundred million random moments ago, but Sansa has it framed on her mantel, displayed for all to see.

 

His heart is squeezing so tight in his chest, he feels like it’s about to squeeze itself into a million tiny pieces.

 

“Okay,” Sansa comes back into the living room from the kitchen. “The pot of water is boiling so we have a little bit of time. What should we do?”

 

They have so many things to talk about, but right now, seeing this picture, Jon knows that he can’t wait.

 

“Can I play my song for you?” He asks.

 

“Of course,” she smiles and goes to sit on the couch. “Is it for the new album you were telling me about?”

 

“Not exactly,” he answers as he takes his acoustic guitar from the case and then goes to sit beside her on the couch, turning his body towards hers. “I kind of just wrote this one for me, I suppose. And you.”

 

“Me?” Sansa asks, surprised.

 

Jon nods and then clears his throat. “You’ll let me know what you honestly think?” He asks her.

 

“Of course,” she says softer now with a matching soft smile.

 

Jon can’t remember the last time he was this nervous before performing a song, but this just isn’t any song. This is _the_ song. He strums the first few chords and makes sure to look at Sansa as he sings.

 

_“Listen._

_Do you want to know a secret?_

_Do you promise not to tell?_

_Closer._

_Let me whisper in your ear._

_Say the words you long to hear._

_I’m in love with you.”_

Sansa grows very still as she stares at him and Jon keeps looking into her eyes.

 

_“Listen._

_Do you want to know a secret?_

_Do you promise not to tell?_

_Closer._

_Let me whisper in your ear._

_Say the words you long to hear._

_I’m in love with you.”_

He strums the last notes, never taking his eyes off of her. His throat feels dry and he has no idea where his stomach is right now. In his feet, maybe, but maybe it’s completely fled his body altogether.

 

Sansa isn’t saying anything. She is sitting there, staring at him, and she doesn’t even seem to be breathing. Jon has absolutely no idea what she’s thinking right now and it’s driving him mad. He knows he should say something, but he feels like he’s said everything he has to say. He loves her. He’s _in_ love with her and yes, he knows that she has a boyfriend, but he feels like this is something she deserves to know anyway.

 

Jon clears his throat and opens his mouth though he still doesn’t know, exactly, how to voice all of his thoughts running rampant right now, but before he can utter even one word, Sansa suddenly moves forward, her hands find his cheeks and she presses her lips to his.

 

…


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to give too many notes for this chapter because I don't want to spoil too much in this chapter. NEXT chapter will have so many notes though to both talk about this chapter and the next, which will be The White Album recording sessions. I will say that Sam is Brian Epstein and what happened to Brian is one of the reasons that eventually led to the Beatles breaking up. I will say more on this in the next chapter. 
> 
> The songs in this chapter are "Wild Honey Pie", a song written by Paul for The White Album and every part is performed by a solo Paul. According to McCartney, the song might have been excluded from The Beatles album, but Harrison's wife, Pattie Boyd, "liked it very much so we decided to leave it on the album". The second song is "Rip it Up" by Little Richard, an early influence of The Beatles. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading and for enjoying this story! I can't explain how much all of the reads, comments and kudos mean to me.

…

 

“If anyone was the fifth Beatle, it was Brian.” – Paul McCartney

 

…

 

“Wait. Jon.”

 

Sansa puts her hands on Jon’s chest and lightly pushes, pulling her head back and laughing when he tries to chase after her lips. She understands completely though. She never wants to stop kissing him either. Her heart is pounding rapidly and she’s out of breath and she can’t believe that this is actually happening. For as many times as she has dreamt of hers and Jon’s first kiss, all of her dreams and fantasies have already faded away, paling in comparison to the real thing.  

 

“What about Ygritte?” Sansa asks him and Jon stops trying to kiss her again instantly.

 

He looks into her eyes and shakes his head. “We broke up a couple of weeks ago. We’re just keeping it quiet for now because she’s promoting a movie and doesn’t want the whole promotion to be about that.”

 

Sansa’s not entirely sure why, but she feels tears stinging her eyes even as she’s smiling from the news and seeing her smile, Jon breaks into one of his own. He lifts a hand to her cheek and begins to move in for another kiss – a kiss Sansa is more than ready for – but he stops himself at the last moment and rears his head back once again.

 

“What about Harwin?” Jon asks.

 

Sansa shakes her head. “We broke up almost a month ago. I didn’t tell you… well, I didn’t know how happy you and Ygritte were together and I also didn’t know if you would care-”

 

Her words die on her lips as Jon kisses her again, cutting her off from speaking any more. Sansa happily sinks into the kiss, her hands lifting to his face, her fingers sifting back into his hair, sinking into his curls like she’s been imagining doing for so long now. Jon shifts, his lips never leaving hers as he moves his acoustic guitar that is still between them and even without looking, he manages to carefully set it aside. And once there is nothing between them any longer, Jon wraps his arms around her and nearly hauls her into his lap.

 

She smiles and lets out a laugh and the whole time, she never lifts her lips from Jon’s, even when she feels him smiling, too, and their teeth are knocking together. It’s still a perfect kiss though – no matter how playful and even ridiculous it might seem. It’s perfect because it’s with Jon.

 

But then they stop smiling long enough to sink into another kiss and she moans softly as Jon’s tongue enters her mouth. Her arms tighten around him and they seem to come to an unspoken agreement at the same time. They both begin to stand from the couch, neither pulling their arms or lips away from the other to do so.

 

“Wait,” Sansa pulls her mouth away to both breathe and speak. “Let me go turn the stove off.”

 

Before she can though, Jon grabs her hand as she begins to step away.

 

“Let’s eat dinner,” Jon says, breathing just as hard as she is.

 

Sansa looks at him, admittedly a bit confused, her head tilted slightly to the side, and Jon gives her a small smile before leaning in and giving her a soft kiss just because now, he can do that.

 

“I want to. Believe me,” Jon reads her mind. “But… right now, I’d rather just sit with you and eat dinner with you and just…” He trails off, unsure of how to word his thoughts exactly right.

 

“Be with me?” Sansa guesses.

 

“Yes,” Jon gives a nod and then steps close to her again. “I want you so much, Sansa,” he tells her in a soft voice that gives her a shiver down the spine.

 

She nearly smiles. She’s finally gotten her shivers.

 

“I want you so bad, it's driving me mad, but I also want to make sure I don’t rush this,” Jon continues. His hands lightly touch her cheeks and Sansa’s nearly flutter. “If you want to be with me-”

 

“I do,” Sansa cuts in and it makes Jon smile.

 

“My life has been nonstop for the past few years and I… I don’t want to rush this. This is one thing I want to savor.”

 

Sansa smiles at that and Jon leans in, resting his forehead to her. “I love you,” she whispers to him.

 

He exhales a warm breath on her face and he closes his eyes as if her words are washing over him. “Can you say that again?” He then requests and Sansa smiles.

 

“I love you,” she has no problem repeating.

 

Jon’s arms slip around her shoulders and he leans into her as if her body is keeping his upright. He drops his head down and presses it to the side of her throat, inhaling her deeply. Sansa giggles as his breath and beard both tickle her and she feels his lips curve into a smile.

 

“Can you say it?” She asks him quietly, her lips to his ear.

 

“I love you,” his words come without hesitation and he lifts his head so his eyes are looking into hers.

 

Sansa shivers again and she tilts her chin up just enough for Jon to see her silent message. He kisses her and Sansa feels her body deflate as if he is taking all of the air from inside of her. Not that she minds. She is more than willing to give Jon Snow anything and everything. She loves him and he loves her and she feels as if she’s been waiting her entire life for this moment.

 

“Was that song really for me?” She asks once their lips part again and Jon returns to resting his forehead to hers.

 

He smiles and he closes his eyes, his arms remaining tight and secure around her, holding her close.

 

“They’ve all been for you.”

 

…

 

It’s a quiet day in the studio – just Jon, Dickon and Sam with Jon working on another solo song for the album. This album is becoming a monster album in length and most of it – what Sam has heard so far – isn’t necessarily his taste, but he admits that he doesn’t know much about music; not compared to Dickon and the four lads. This album is all about experimentation with their sound, apparently, and Sam just knows that if everyone else is happy with it, Sam doesn’t doubt that it will be another top album on the charts for the band.

 

He sits in the booth with Dickon as Jon sings into the microphone out in the studio. He seems to purposely be singing as awful as he can, but again, Sam doesn’t question it. Dickon and the lads have proven and shown that they obviously know what they are doing and what they want when it comes to the Direwolves’ evolving sound.

 

The booth feels so hot to him that afternoon and he wipes at his forehead as he is texting with Gilly.

 

“How was that?” Jon asks when he’s finished.

 

“I love it,” Dickon smiles and then looks to Sam. “Sam?”

 

“Hmmmm?” Sam lifts his head and sees Dickon and Jon looking to him. “Oh, yeah. Good job, Jon.”

 

Jon laughs and Dickon gives his brother a grin.

 

“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know if you _really_ think it’s a good job,” Jon jokes with him. “You like this more, yeah?” He goes to pick up his guitar and after slipping the strap over his head and onto his shoulder, he begins to play.

 

_“Well, it’s Saturday night and I just got paid._

_Fool about my money, don’t try to save._

_My heart says go, go, have a time,_

_Saturday night and I’m feelin’ fine._

_I’m gonna rock it up, I’m gonna rip it up._

_I’m gonna shake it up, gonna ball it up,_

_I’m gonna rock it up, and ball tonight.”_

“Now you’re talking,” Sam gives him a grin through the glass. Jon seems to be in a very good mood today.

 

Jon laughs and goes to take his guitar off before coming into the booth to join them.

 

“You feeling okay?” Dickon asks, turning on his stool towards him. “You don’t look that good.”

 

“I don’t feel that good,” Sam admits as Jon goes to the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. Taking one look at Sam so visibly sweating, Jon brings one back for him, too. “Thank you.”

 

He takes a greedy chug. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He feels like if he goes home and lays in bed, he’ll be asleep clear straight through until tomorrow. There’s too much to do for him to do that though. The guys need him here when they record. Sam’s already had to break up more than one argument between them and Sam fears they won’t get anything done and waste a perfectly good recording day if he decides to take the day off and sleep. As Gilly likes to say when she’s putting too many hours in at the record shop, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead”.

 

“What did you really think of it?” Jon asks once Sam is finished swallowing and he has sat himself on the couch.

 

“Well,” Sam pauses. “I think it’s going to let the listener know that this is going to be like no Direwolves album they’ve ever heard,” he says and Jon breaks into a smile at that.

 

“Now _that_ is a compliment, Sam,” Jon comments and Sam smiles before wiping his forehead again and taking another chug of water. He feels like he’ll never be able to drink enough water.

 

“Sam, why don’t you go home?” Dickon is the one to suggest. “Me and Jon have got this. We’re almost done for the day anyway and we’ll pick it up when the rest of the guys are back.”

 

Normally, Sam would instantly protest. Certainly not. There are more things that could always be worked on. But, Sam feels as if he’s about to pass out where he sits. He tries to remember where he could have picked up such a nasty flu bug. Maybe Little Sam has brought something home from his school.

 

“Alright,” Sam sighs and when he gets to his feet, Dickon and Jon stand up as well. He points a finger at Jon, but looks to his brother. “You keep him here until everything is perfect.”

 

“You got it, boss,” Dickon gives him a grin and a slap on the back.

 

Sam winces. Dickon may be the younger brother, but he’s always been bigger and stronger and he _always_ forgets how strong he is. For some reason, it particularly hurts today. Is Dickon getting stronger? The slap has made his entire body feel as if it’s now stinging with pain.  

 

“Get home safe, yeah?” Jon says. “Do you want me to call a driver for you?”

 

“No,” Sam instantly shakes his head. “I want to stop at the shop for Gilly and pick up something for dinner.”

 

“Are you sure you should be around food right now?” Dickon asks with a furrowed brow.

 

“I’m fine,” Sam waves off his concerns. “I mean it. Don’t you go light up a joint as soon as I leave. _Work_.”

 

“Yes, boss,” Jon and Dickon both chirp with grins.

 

Sam frowns at both of them and with a final wave to them, he leaves the studio, telling himself that in just a little bit more, he’ll be back in bed and he’ll feel better once he lays down.

 

…

 

_“Sad news in the world of music this afternoon. It is being reported that just an hour ago, Samwell Tarly, the manager of the Direwolves, has passed away. No further details at the moment, but it is said that the band will be releasing a statement within the next day. Samwell Tarly is rightfully credited with discovering the band as they were playing in Essos and helped launch their careers into the Direwolf-mania we all know it to be…”_

 

Gilly answers the door and when she sees that it’s Jeyne and Theon on the porch, with Jack holding onto Jeyne’s hand, she gives them both a smile, her eyes wet, but no tears falling. She’s cried enough, she’s decided, and everyone else is crying too much.

 

Theon steps forward first and wraps Gilly up in a hug. “I am so sorry, Gilly,” he says into her hair.

 

Gilly doesn’t say anything. She’s also learned that no one is expecting her to say anything. She could have contracted laryngitis as she would have no idea because she’s not tested her own voice in hours.

 

Jeyne hugs her next and Jeyne exhales a shaky breath, the woman trying to keep from crying in front of Gilly. She then pulls away and holds up a single blue rose. “For you,” Jeyne says and Gilly manages a smile, taking it.

 

The others have all gathered in the family room. Dickon, Mr. and Mrs. Tarly and Sam and Dickon’s sister, Talla. Robb, Jon and Grenn are already there as is Dany – having come with Robb – and Sansa – having come with Jon. Jack sees his dad sitting on the couch and he goes to him, Robb sitting up enough to give the little boy a hug. Jack is too young to know, but Jeyne can tell immediately from Robb’s glassed-over eyes that he’s stoned right now.

 

“Jack, go sit with Little Sam,” Jeyne tells him and Jack goes without argument, sitting with Little Sam on the floor in front of the television where there is a Disney movie playing for him.

 

Theon makes his way around the room, hugging everyone, and Sansa gets up and after hugging Theon, she goes to Jeyne, who is lingering in the entryway, not wanting to come in further, trying to ignore the way Dany is looking at her right now and the way Robb is pretending that she’s not there at all. The two hug one another and then, with their arms still around each other, both pull their heads back in order to talk in whispers.

 

“Did you come with Theon?” Sansa can’t help, but ask.

 

“He offered to give me and Jack a ride and I couldn’t not come to see Gilly,” Jeyne whispers back.

 

“Of course you should be here. Who gives one ounce if Robb or _her_ have an opinion about it? I just wasn’t expecting you to come with Theon.”

 

Jeyne looks over Sansa’s shoulder to look at Theon, sitting with Grenn on the couch, the drummer handing him a pack of cigarettes to take one from. She then looks back to her friend. “Theon’s been spending a lot of time at the house with me and Jack,” she then admits and she can see that Sansa is understandably surprised. “He’s been helping me with things around the house that… well, not that Robb was the handiest, but he always tried. Now, Theon has told me that he wants to try. It was a complete disaster when he helped with the dripping faucet in the bathtub the other day.”

 

“Theon,” Sansa states the name rather than asking it.

 

“I don’t… he’s just a friend. He’s been a friend for so long. We were in the same primary school classes together for goodness sakes,” Jeyne says. “And I’ve already been with one musician and that turned out just splendid for me.”

 

“It sounds like you’re working very hard to convince me that Theon is just a friend, Jeyne,” Sansa teases her lightly.

 

“Oh, you,” Jeyne rolls her eyes and steps away and Sansa lets out a soft laugh, amazed that she could even think of laughing at this precise moment.

 

Jeyne goes into the kitchen to see if she can be any help to Gilly – who has gone in there to put the rose in water – and Sansa turns back to look at the others in the room.

 

Jon had been over at her flat when the call had come. He had been in the recording studio all morning and Sansa had been in class and he came over after asking her if he could – as if he has to ask – and he knew that she didn’t have any afternoon classes that particular day. He was helping her run lines – he as Brick to her Maggie for _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_ – and his cell phone had begun to ring. He was prepared to ignore it, but he paused when he saw that it was Gilly calling him.

 

_“The EMT said it was a stroke… right while he was driving… his high blood pressure… they said he died so fast…”_

It has all been a bit of a blur since then. Everyone has come to Gilly and Sam’s house and no one has left in hours. Everyone is in understandable shock and just looking at Dickon, his face ashen and blank, and then looking to Little Sam, watching his movie with a blank face to match that of his uncle’s, Sansa feels tears flooding her eyes and she turns away before anyone can see them.

 

“Excuse me,” she whispers to the room though no one is paying attention to her, and she hurries down the hallway and out the front door.

 

Thankfully, Sam has bought his family a home in the country with privacy fences, much like the other band members, so Sansa doesn’t have to worry about nosy fans or photographers seeing her right now. She leans against one of the pillars on the porch and tries to draw in deep breaths, though she is shaking and crying, and trying to get control of her breathing seems to only be making it worse.

 

She covers her eyes with her hands and weeps, not even noticing that it’s beginning to rain. Thankfully, the porch is covered, but she can feel the occasional drop against her hair or back.

 

She doesn’t hear him coming, but she then feels his warm, familiar arms wrap around her and Sansa drops her hands so she can press her soaked face into his chest.

 

“I’m sorry,” she is finally able to say. “I should be the one comforting you right now.”

 

Jon shakes his head and she pulls her head back so she can look into his face. “I’d much rather focus on comforting you, if you don’t mind.” He begins brushing hair back from her face that her tears have trapped to her cheeks.

 

Sansa breathes in another shaky breath and exhales a breath just as wobbly. She lifts her hands and wipes his cheeks for him and she wonders if he even realizes that he’s crying.

 

“What the fuck are we going to do without him, Sansa?” He asks her as if she’s the one who has all of the answers now. “Sam’s been with us since… we’re shit without him. What the fuck are we going to do now?”

 

…


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My note for this chapter became massive so I had to include it with the actual chapter.

So many notes for this chapter. In regards to the last chapter, Brian Epstein passed away in 1967 from an accidental overdose. When the band went to go visit his mother, Cynthia Lennon brought her a red rose. The band also did not attend Brian’s funeral service out of respect for the family and so there wouldn’t be a frenzy of fans. Though the band had stopped touring and Brian no longer had such a large role as they became a solely studio band, Brian remained the band’s mediator when arguments broke out. For that reason, his presence was definitely missed as the band worked on their remaining albums.

 

 _The White Album_ was worked on in 1968 and is often considered by critics to be one of the greatest albums of all time. I was going to post the whole thing from YouTube at the end of the chapter, but decided to just post a few of the songs that this chapter mentioned. The band had a strict rule of no wives or girlfriends in the recording studio, but John brought Yoko anyway and her presence added to the tension already in the band. John and Yoko were also using heroin more and more, which made working with Lennon increasingly difficult – but I have not pursued that particular storyline with Robb.

 

“The most essential line of communication, between Lennon and McCartney, had been broken by Ono’s presence on the first day of recording.” – Beatles author, Peter Doggett.

 

The first song in this chapter is “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da”. George Martin criticized Paul’s vocals, to which Paul replies, “Well, you come down and sing it.” John grew more critical of Paul’s song-writing (the two at this point were hardly writing together), calling his songs “cloyingly sweet and bland” while Paul viewed John’s songs as “harsh, unmelodious and deliberately provocative” Those in the studio, witnessing the recording of this song, have said that they pinpointed this moment as knowing that the Beatles would eventually break up.  

 

Yoko really did take one of George’s biscuits without asking him and he called her a bitch for it.

 

Ringo quit the band for a few weeks during the recording of “Back in the U.S.S.R”, sick of Paul constantly criticizing his playing. When he returned, George had decorated his set with flowers. Ringo wrote “Don’t Pass Me By”, his first solo composition for the band. Ringo played drums and Paul played piano. Lennon, Harrison and Ono worked on “Revolution 9” and is either loved or hated by Beatles fans (I hate it). McCartney had nothing to do with the track and was unhappy about it being on the album.

 

George wrote _While My Guitar Gently Weeps_ while visiting his parents’ house.

 

“Helter Skelter” was written by Paul and the band had long passages during which they jammed, but the sessions became too long to fit on an LP so they had to cut back some. Ringo really did shout “I’ve got blisters on my fingers!” at the end of it from all of the intense, constant playing.

 

“The break-up of the Beatles can be heard on that album” – John Lennon

 

Of the album’s 30 tracks, only 16 have all four members performing.

 

The next chapter will be solely Jon/Sansa and it’s actually the initial idea I had when thinking of this story. THANK YOU so much for reading – both this ridiculously long author’s note and this chapter! I hope you like it. I’m actually really proud of this chapter.

 

…

 

“I didn’t leave the Beatles. The Beatles have left the Beatles, but no one wants to be the one to say the party’s over.” – John Lennon

 

…

 

“Thank you for driving me. You didn’t have to though. It’s just a couple of blocks,” Sansa smiles as Jon pulls the car to the curb and she has no idea why she’s feeling shy all of a sudden.

 

“I wanted to,” Jon gives her his own smile. “The longer I’m able to be with you, the less I’ll want to kill someone.”

 

Sansa’s smile fades as she turns more in her seat towards him. “Is it really going that bad?” She asks him quietly, not wanting to pry, but letting him know that if he wants to talk, she’s definitely here to listen; just as she always been. She doesn’t know all of the details, but apparently, these recording sessions for the band’s latest album are not going well – to put it mildly.

 

Two things she _has_ noticed though. Jon and Robb aren’t writing their songs together anymore and Jon has been going to the studio a lot lately, _just_ him. That’s weird that he would be recording without the other bandmates. The Direwolves always record everything together.

 

“It could go better,” Jon’s answer is purposely vague.

 

He then turns his head, looking out through the windshield, looking for something, before back to her. He gives her a small smile and then reaches over, taking one of her hands into both of his. He turns it over so he can look down to her palm and Sansa feels warm just from his touch; sometimes still hardly believing that he is here, with her. After all of this time, they are together.

 

He seems hesitant to say goodbye and though Sansa has class to get to, she’s hesitant to leave this car, to be honest. He’s been coming by every night to her flat for the past few nights, but no one still knows about them. She’s told her parents – so she’s sure Bran, Rickon and Arya know now, too – and he’s told his mom, but other than that, no one knows. Not even Robb. Jon has said that he would like to be the one to tell her brother and Sansa had asked if he wanted her there when he did.

 

Jon shook his head at that. “Robb is… well, I don’t know any more how he’s going to react to things and I don’t want you around that.”

 

Sansa doesn’t know how Robb would react – sometimes, she feels like she doesn’t know him at all anymore – and she wonders if Robb knows, will Jon come out to others about their relationship? Sansa’s not sure how she feels about keeping their relationship a secret, if that’s what Jon wants. Yes, she knows the Direwolves’ fans and photographers can be a bit… _rabid_ and that’s being kind, but they have no say in who Jon dates. And Sansa doesn’t mean to make comparisons, but Jon hadn’t hid his relationship with Ygritte from anyone.

 

Why hide it when he’s in a relationship with her now? Should she worry?

 

“I love you,” Jon then says and it makes Sansa smile, forgetting all of her thoughts. No, she’s not going to worry. Not yet anyway. She’ll see how soon it will be before Jon speaks out that he’s dating someone new.

 

“I love you, too,” she says back and the words make Jon smile, too. It seems like he can also hardly believe that this is all real and all happening between them. “I don’t know if I love you though for making me wear this hat,” she then says, her hands going to the floppy hat on her head at the moment and Jon breaks into an eye-crinkling smile.

 

“I don’t know,” he comments and reaches up to touch it as well. “I think you look adorable.”

 

Sansa blushes even as she rolls her eyes. “Please don’t write a song about this,” she tells him and Jon lets out a laugh before his hand curves around the back of her neck and gently pulls her in for a kiss.

 

She normally doesn’t wear hats, but Jon had asked – when he asked her if he could drive her to campus that morning – if she wouldn’t mind wearing one. Sansa had braided her hair and had then tucked it up into the hat so her long, red hair wouldn’t be as obvious. She feels silly, wearing a disguise, but she knows that photographers seem to track the guys down, no matter where they are, to snap a picture and Jon is just being careful.

 

Sansa pulls away – reluctantly. “I have to go,” she tells him quietly.

 

Jon nods and sighs softly. “I wish I could go to class with you,” he admits.

 

“I thought you guys became rock stars so you wouldn’t have to go to class,” she teases.

 

He lets out a quiet laugh and then it fades and the lines in his face take over again. “Can I come see you tonight?”

 

“I gave you a key for a reason, Jon,” Sansa reminds him.

 

Jon smiles a little, too, and lifts a hand to her cheek. “I just don’t want you to get sick of me already.”

 

Sansa is already shaking her head before he can even finish his sentence. “I’d ask you to move in with me, but I know you wouldn’t want to live in Wintertown where I am.”

 

Jon looks at her for a moment without saying anything and then he visibly swallows. “You mean that? You want to live together? You don’t think it’s too soon?”

 

Sansa wonders if _he_ thinks it’s soon for them to have this conversation, but she decides to tell him her honest opinion on the matter. She shrugs her shoulders. “It seems soon, but, well, this has been building between us for so long now and it feels right and I suppose I’m just tired of any more time passing between us.”

 

Jon lifts both of her hands to her cheeks now and gently pulls her in for another kiss. Sansa doesn’t want to assume anything between them, but she can’t help, but think that perhaps, Jon doesn’t hate the idea and the car is feeling exceptionally warm to her now.

 

As Jon continues kissing her, Sansa kisses him in return, trying to put herself closer to him, her arms circling around his neck. She can be a _little_ late to class.

 

…

 

“It’s just not sounding that good, Jon,” Dickon tells him from in the booth after their countless take of this song.

 

Jon almost growls in frustration. “Well, then you come the fuck out here, Dickon, and sing it,” he snaps back.

 

“I’m taking a break,” Dickon snaps and Grenn slaps his sticks down onto his snare, standing up from his stool.

 

“Me, too,” he frowns, already pulling his pack of cigarettes out from his pocket.

 

“I didn’t say it was break time,” Jon now snaps at the drummer.

 

“You’re not the boss, Jon,” Theon says, taking off his own guitar. “Despite what you think of yourself.”

 

Jon frowns at that, but doesn’t make a comment in return.

 

Robb takes off his own guitar and Dany is instantly at his side. The Direwolves have always had a strict rule for themselves and that is no wives or girlfriends in the recording studio while they are working, but Robb decided to toss that rule out the window and Dany has been coming to the studio with him every day. Her presence is doing nothing to help with the already thick tension that has taken permanent residence in the air.

 

“It’s a shitty song, Jon,” Robb tells him point-blank, taking the joint Dany hands him. “Granny music shit. Why don’t you write another song about a dog?”

 

Jon closes his eyes and forces himself to take a deep breath. He will still go to prison if he beats Robb to death with his guitar right now, being a Direwolf or not.

 

“Robb.”

 

They turn their heads to see Ned Stark, of all people, having come into the studio, holding some papers.

 

“Get over here,” he tells his son, frowning deeply at the sight of the joint in Robb’s fingers.

 

“I’m working, dad,” Robb replies without seeming to care whether his dad sees him smoking or not.

 

“I’m not telling you again,” Ned says and Jon has known Ned Stark long enough to know that tone of voice and Robb is no stranger to that tone either. It’s Ned’s “Don’t test me right now” tone.

 

Robb takes a purposely long drag before handing the joint back to Dany and going to where his father is. Ned says something to him in a low voice and then putting a hand on the back of Robb’s neck, he pushes him down the hallway to one of the other rooms in the studio.

 

“She went crying to her ex-daddy-in-law for more money,” Dany bites out.

 

Jon looks to Dany with his own frown. “Who? Jeyne?” Though who else would Dany be talking about?

 

“She’s always after more of his money and it’s the only way she can get Robb to talk to her,” Dany continues.

 

Theon, who had been tinkering away at the piano, slams his hands down on the keys, the noise echoing in the hollow room. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about so why don’t you shut the fuck up, _Daenerys_?” He practically snarls at her before stalking out, probably going to go take a cigarette with Grenn.

 

Not wanting to be left alone with her, Jon leaves the studio room as well, heading outside. It’s an overcast afternoon with a slightly chilly breeze in the air, but Jon’s not going back inside for his jacket. He’s nowhere near ready to go back inside yet.

 

Instead, he leans back against the wall behind him and pulls out his phone to check the time. He smiles the instant he sees that Sansa had sent him a text about an hour ago. He knows she’s in class right now, but he’ll read and reply. He needs to get his mind off of this disastrous day.

 

 _I know you’re super busy right now, but this is really important_ – Sansa’s text reads. _Can we get Thai for dinner?_

_Thai sounds amazing_ , Jon texts back. _And please believe me. This is the most important thing to happen today._

He doesn’t expect her to reply, class and all, and he slips his phone back into his back pocket before resting his head against the wall, closing his eyes and taking a few steadying deep breaths. He never, _ever_ , thought that he would have such thoughts, but being here, in the recording studio, is the absolutely last place he wants to be.

 

…

 

He’s not listening. Robb, Theon and Grenn are all talking about something, but Jon honestly isn’t listening.

 

Instead, he’s watching Dany, his anger growing as he does.

 

She had been napping in one of the unused studios for almost the whole afternoon, but now, she was out, back in their studio and Jon can’t stop from watching her closely. He knows she’s going to do something. What, he doesn’t know, but he can just _feel_ it and his anger is rising in preparation.

 

He has a sleeve of biscuits on one of the amps, having been snacking on them for much of the day, and Dany lets out a yawn as she shuffles right towards that amp and sleeve of biscuits. Jon’s eyes narrow as Dany, as casually as can be, reaches into the sleeve and takes a biscuit for herself.

 

“That bitch!” Jon exclaims before he can stop himself, stopping Robb, Theon and Grenn in mid-sentence.

 

“Hey!” Robb shouts in defense, getting to his feet when he sees Dany. “What the hell, Snow?” He demands.

 

Jon gets to his feet, too, and points at the woman as she continues eating the biscuit, looking the picture of innocence. “Those are _my_ biscuits and she just took one without even asking me if she could have one, Stark!” He shouts back. Yes, they’re only biscuits, but they’re _his_ biscuits and he doesn’t want _her_ touching what’s his.

 

Robb continues glaring at Jon, but then he looks to Dany and the biscuit, and he then sighs. Without saying another word about, he sits back down in his chair. Jon walks over to the amp and without sparing another glance to Dany, he snatches the sleeve of biscuits and goes outside to get some fresh air and calm down again.

 

…

 

Grenn quits the next day.

 

Just as the day before, the tension is thick as they work on the recordings they have chosen to work on that day. It doesn’t help that Dickon, rather abruptly, told them all the day before that he was going to be taking a little holiday. There’s another engineer that they’ve worked with before, Davos, and he’s a fine engineer, but he’s not Dickon, who’s been with them since their very first album, but they all know they can’t tell Dickon that he _can’t_ take a holiday. If Sam was here… well, if Sam was still here, Dickon wouldn’t be taking a holiday in the first place.

 

“No, Grenn,” Jon shakes his head as they break. “You’re off.”

 

Grenn frowns at him. “I’m not fucking off, Jon. Maybe _you’re_ off.”

 

Jon sighs and looks to Robb for a little help, but Robb is useless as is becoming the norm, Robb is talking with Dany in soft voices so no one else can overhear their conversations.

 

“It’s a shitty song anyway,” Grenn continues.

 

Jon clenches his jaw. “You think it’s shitty only because you can’t keep a fucking beat for it.”

 

“Fuck you, Jon!” Grenn explodes, standing up. He throws his drumsticks, both crashing into the cymbals. “I quit!”

 

“Hey, Grenn, no,” Theon immediately shakes his head.

 

“Alright, let’s just everyone calm down,” Davos says, coming out of the booth.

 

“No, I quit,” Grenn shakes his head. “You guys don’t like the way I play drums? Play them your fucking selves!”

 

And with that, he grabs his stuff and storms out of the studio.

 

Theon sighs heavily and then looks to Jon and Jon looks at him and then Robb.

 

“This is not my fault,” Jon snaps fiercely. “His beats. Were. Off.” His teeth are practically gnashing now.

 

“It’s fine,” Robb finally speaks. “We’ll all just cover for him until he cools off and comes back.”

 

Between the three of them taking turns, playing the drums, they finish the rest of the song and when they break for lunch, they decide to be done for the rest of the day.

 

Completely exhausted in more ways than one, Jon just wants to go to Sansa, but he knows that she has an all-day rehearsal scheduled and the last thing he wants to do is go and distract her with his own shit so he drives out to see his mum instead. He’s not surprised to find Lyanna out in her flower garden and she smiles happily when she sees him. And just seeing her, he releases a breath that’s been trapped in his lungs and he hugs her.

 

“I’ll fix you something to eat,” she says and Jon wants to protest, but damn it. He’s a grown man, but right now, if he can’t have his girlfriend, he will gladly take his mum.

 

In the house, Lyanna goes about moving around the kitchen and Jon sees himself to the family room, collapsing, exhausted on the couch. The baby grand piano is in here and Jon also keeps one of his acoustic guitars here as well. He picks it up now and spends a few minutes, plucking strings and tuning it.

 

It’s quiet here and Jon leans back in the couch, closing his eyes, letting himself revel in that quiet for a bit.

 

His fingers begin mindlessly plucking at the strings again.

 

 _“I look at you…_ ” he sings and then trails off, plucking more strings, his eyes going towards the large glass window that overlooks the back of the house. The afternoon is streaming in and he sees the specks of dust flying in the air, dancing in the shining rays. _“I look at the floor… and I see it needs sweeping… my guitar gently weeps…”_

…

 

Grenn comes back a few days later and laughs when he sees that Theon has thrown flower petals all over his drums in celebration of his return.

 

Jon and Grenn hug.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jon says to him softly.

 

“Let’s just forget it,” Grenn suggests though Jon doubts that they’ll be able to. “I wrote a song while away.”

 

“Yeah?” Jon smiles at that. Grenn’s never written a song for any of their albums before. He has sung whatever Robb and Jon have written for him and Jon hadn’t even known that Grenn had been able to write a song.

 

“I need your help playing on it though,” Grenn admits.

 

“Robb and Dany are in studio 2. We’ll go in three,” Jon says and Grenn nods.

 

Jon has no idea what Robb and Dany are working on, but Robb has told him that it’s a song they wrote together and he doesn’t need Jon for it, but he’s asked Theon to play some on it. Jon is not going to admit that he’s jealous. But he will admit that over his dead body will he ever allow a Robb and Dany song to be on a Direwolves album.

 

…

 

“Are you sure it’s okay I’m here?” Sansa asks worriedly as she holds onto Jon’s hand as he leads them into the studio. “I thought.. well, just because Robb broke the rule, you don’t want to break it, too, do you?”

 

“I want you here, Sansa,” Jon tells her. “I _need_ you here.”

 

Sansa nods and gives him a small smile. “Then this is where I’ll be.”

 

She gives his hand a squeeze and Jon turns to face her so he can cup the back of her head with his other hand and gives her a kiss. He doesn’t care if Robb sees them or not. He had wanted to sit down with Robb and tell him about his and Sansa’s relationship and how they’re already pretty damn serious, but Jon has realized that he can’t care less anymore about what Robb thinks or has to say about it. Or anything for that matter.  

 

It won’t matter anyway if Robb is for or against Jon dating Sansa, Jon has decided. It’s not going to stop Jon. He is madly in love with this girl and no one can say anything that would ever pull him away from her.

 

That day, Dickon is back and all four members are in the studio.

 

“Do you want to sit in here?” Jon asks.

 

Sansa takes one look at the couch, where Dany is sitting, and shakes her head. “I’ll keep Dickon company.”

 

Jon can’t help, but smile at that and he gives her another kiss before she goes into the booth.

 

They choose to record _Helter Skelter_ and it’s chaotic – to say the least. In between singing, the band has minute long jam sessions that go on and on, take after take, and each take sounds dirtier than the last.

 

And it’s exactly what Jon envisioned when he wrote the song. Just the guys, playing and jamming together, having fun, almost like they used to, no one telling them anything otherwise. And at the end of one particularly long take, before Dickon can turn the red light off, Grenn suddenly screams, “I’ve got blisters on my fingers!”, the recording catching it, and Jon breaks into a grin. It feels like forever since he’s grinned in the recording studio.

 

He looks to the recording booth and he sees Sansa watching him, her eyes bright with laughter, and a smile across her face, and Jon looks right back at her and keeps smiling.

 

…

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George Harrison and model Patti Boyd met on the set of _A Hard Day's Night_ and were married in 1966. Paul was their best man and was exceptionally drunk at the wedding. Just google the pictures - you won't regret it. They divorced in 1977. I'm not going to get into it, but George cheated and then Patti and Eric Clapton... seriously. Not getting into it. Just google Patti Boyd, George Harrison and Eric Clapton for that triangle. 
> 
> Olivia Harrison was actually the inspiration for this story. She and George married in 1978, had a son together and were married until George died in 2001. She was quiet and mostly out of the public eye for the first years of hers and George's marriage. She later became involved in several charities. A burglar broke into their home one night, stabbing George multiple times, before Olivia was able to attack the burglar, getting stabbed herself and scaring him off. Many credit her with saving George's life. 
> 
> Olivia is my inspiration because I sometimes feel like she's forgotten. After the breakup of the Beatles and his personal life, George fell out of love with music for a little bit, but then he fell in love with Olivia and his songs began to reflect his happiness again. Because George and Patti were SO high-profile as a couple, most pictures are of the two of them. Fan videos are made of them. People still consider them #truelove and I just love Olivia BECAUSE of her quietness and devotion and love for George and the love he had for her. 
> 
> The picture of George and Olivia also served as inspiration for Jon and Sansa in this story.
> 
> Thank you so, so much as always and I hope you like this chapter! I'm sad to say that this story is winding down.

…

 

“The biggest break in my career was getting into the Beatles in 1962. The second biggest break since then was getting out of them.” – George Harrison

 

…

 

“Thank you for taking me tonight,” Sansa smiles from the passenger seat.

 

Jon gives her a quick smile before he’s looking back to the road. “Thank you for inviting me although I’m going to tell you right now that I won’t understand a word of it,” he says, smiling when she laughs. “I’ve been brushing up on my Shakespeare and now, you completely switch gears on me and want to go see a Greek tragedy.”

 

Sansa laughs again. “I’m sure you’ll catch on. It’s a Greek tragedy though, so at least you know it won’t end well.”

 

Jon grins at that and leaving one hand on the steering wheel, he reaches over and takes one of her hands with his others. He brings it to his lips and kisses her knuckles and he sees Sansa smiling from the corner of his eye. They’re both quiet for a moment. The car radio is turned to a classical music station with absolutely no risk whatsoever of a Direwolves song playing. Jon is going to be honest and say he can’t listen to the band’s music right now.

 

It’s coming. He knows it is. He supposes he’s just waiting for someone to call it.

 

But he doesn’t want to think about that. Not tonight. Preferably, not ever. Tonight, he’s going out with Sansa and they’re going to see _Antigone_ together, and fuck, he is ridiculously excited for it though he already knows that the ancient Greek tragedy plays probably aren’t his thing. That doesn’t matter though because this is the play Sansa wants to see and for as much support as she has given him over the years, Jon knows he’ll never be anywhere close to thanking her and repaying her for it.

 

Sansa looks beyond gorgeous that night in a blue dress that is absolutely striking with her eyes and flaming red hair. Jon feels a bit underdressed, sitting next to her. His suit is simple and black with a white buttoned shirt and no tie, but Sansa has assured him that he looks as he always does. Ridiculously handsome.

 

Tonight, it’s her graduation present. He’s gotten them a private box with their own usher to bring them drinks. His girlfriend is now officially a university graduate. The ceremony had just been two days before – one large ceremony for the entire graduating class and then they had broken up into each school having their own small ceremony where the students received their actual diplomas.

 

Jon, Theon and Grenn had all gone – Arya, Bran and Rickon having a blast in helping them with their disguises. Bran had an old Michael Myers from _Halloween_ mask and Grenn and Theon had fought with one another over who would get to wear it. (Grenn won). Jeyne and Jack had come, too, and Jeyne had honestly been bracing herself for Robb and Dany being there, but they had never showed. Ned had tried calling Robb periodically throughout the day, but when Sansa’s name was called and she crossed the stage to receive her diploma, her family’s extremely loud cheering making her laugh, slightly with embarrassment, Robb being a no-show was completely forgotten.

 

With the help of Mrs. Crane, over the past couple of months, Sansa has had several auditions with various theater companies throughout Westeros – and one in Essos, as well.

 

“The one in Essos, it’s a strictly Shakespeare Company,” Sansa had said. “I don’t… if I get that one… I don’t know if I’d want to move to Essos, but if I do make it and I do decide that’s the one I want to be with…” she had been nearly stuttering, trying to get her words out, trying to decide exactly what she wanted to say.

 

Jon had leaned in and kissed her softly. “If you decide Essos is the place for you, then that’s the place for me, too. If we live there, I can focus more of my time on the sitar.”

 

But tonight is not for making their future life decisions. Tonight is all about doing anything _but_ thinking about the future. No Direwolves talk. No theater company talk. Just being together and going to see a play Jon knows he won’t understand a word of, but he can already imagine how Sansa will be hanging on every word and how beautiful she is going to look while doing it and that’s more than good enough for him.

 

It’s opening night and more than one photographer is there to capture the “Who’s Who” in the North that is in attendance at the play that evening.

 

“Do you think they have parking in the back?” Sansa asks, leaning forward as if she can see around the building.

 

Jon doesn’t answer. He simply pulls into the row for valet parking.

 

“Jon…” she begins to say, frowning, her brow creased as she looks at him. Jon normally isn’t the sort to put himself right in the path of the photographers.

 

But he just gives her a small smile and doesn’t say anything.

 

And when it’s their turn in the line, Jon steps out to hand his keys to the valet driver and take his ticket and then he walks around to the passenger side, smiling as he opens the door for Sansa. It has taken the photographers and the others in attendance to realize that _the_ Jon Snow of the Direwolves is in attendance and suddenly, it’s blinding flashbulbs and piercing screams.

 

Sansa feels a knot in her stomach, fearing that she’s going to suddenly trip for no reason whatsoever in front of all of these people and cameras, but Jon holds her tight, his arm sliding around her waist.

 

“Want to head right in?” He asks, his lips right to her ear so she can hear him over the noise.

 

Sansa hesitates. Honestly, she feels beautiful tonight and she loves the dress she is wearing and suddenly, she wants everyone in the world to know that Jon Snow has a new girlfriend and that the new girlfriend is her.

 

“Can we just get a few pictures taken?” She asks, almost nervous at what Jon’s reaction will be. Standing in front of a sea of cameras is definitely not his favorite thing to do.

 

Jon just smiles. “I don’t know how we’ll get away with just a few,” he says and leads her down the carpet, his arm never leaving her waist and Sansa is grateful for it. She wonders if he can feel the slight tremors quaking over her body right now. He must though because he squeezes her gently in his side.

 

_“JON!” “SANSA!”_ The photographers shout at them and over each other to get the couple’s attention and Sansa, for a moment, wonders how on earth they know her name, but then she remembers most already know her from Direwolves fan sites as she had been captured in candid pictures when with the band.

 

“You alright?” Jon says in her ear.

 

Sansa doesn’t answer. The cameras are blinding and she’s holding onto Jon’s own waist because she’s fairly certain that her knees are going to knock together so strongly, she’s about to fall. She’s never experienced anything like this. It’s different when she’s on stage, acting. Yes, lights are on her, but they aren’t flashing like at a techno club. And there is silence except for whoever is speaking on stage and the occasional cough or sneeze from the audience. All eyes are on her when she’s acting, but the auditorium is dark and she can’t actually _see_ everyone looking at her.

 

She wonders how many websites and magazines these pictures are going to be in. She wonders what articles are going to be written about “Direwolf Jon Snow and bandmate’s sister Sansa Stark”. She wonders how she looks right now. She had thought, earlier when she had been looking in her mirror reflection, that she had looked beautiful, but now, with hundreds of her picture being taken, she is beginning to doubt everything about her look. What if one of the cameras catch the slightest thing wrong with her appearance right now? She hadn’t even thought that because it’s the play’s opening night, there would be this kind of publicity with it. Maybe she and Jon should have just stayed home.

 

She doesn’t answer Jon’s question. She’s pretty sure she has no voice right now. Instead, she turns her head to look to him and doesn’t say anything. But she doesn’t need to because Jon already knows.

 

He squeezes her waist. “Come on,” he turns her away from the photographers and towards the front doors of the theater. He raises a hand to the photographers as they begin making their way down the carpet and going inside.

 

In the lobby, the other theatergoers have already found out that Jon Snow is there that evening and while they all want to get a glimpse of him – even people her parents’ age and older – all are courteous enough to not approach.

 

“That was…” Sansa shakes her head slightly.

 

“I’m still not used to it, to be honest,” Jon smiles a little. “But what are you going to do when you’re a famous stage actress and everyone is clamoring for your picture?” He asks.

 

“I’m never going to be _that_ famous, Jon,” she replies as he reaches into the inside of his suit for their tickets.

 

Jon just smiles at that. “Sure, Sansa.”

 

…

 

Sansa makes a terrible mistake and the whole thing is, she _knows_ it’s a terrible mistake, but she doesn’t stop from making it anyway.

 

Armed with a glass of red wine and her laptop, she settles down on her bed. Jon is still at the studio and officially graduated with no more classes or plays to rehearse – hopefully, just for now – her evenings are now spent, relaxing.

 

She goes onto Tumblr, still following various Direwolves blogs as well as old cinema and stage theater blogs.

 

She has just taken a sip of wine and proceeds to nearly choke on it when she suddenly finds herself looking at a very HQ picture of her and Jon from their night at the theater. Sansa carefully puts her glass down on the nightstand next to the bed and draws her knees up, bringing her laptop closer to her. She doesn’t look _that_ bad. Actually, she and Jon look pretty nice together. She begins to smile.

 

But then, her eyes catch the hashtags that the poster has used.

 

_#worstbestfriend_ and _#robbdeservesbetter_ but the one that makes her throat grow extremely dry, extremely fast is the last hashtag used.

 

_#pleasegetbacktogetherwithygritte_

 

Sansa tells herself to get off Tumblr right this instant, but she obviously thinks that’s a bad idea because all she does is continue scrolling down her dash. There are more pictures of her and Jon posted with more of the same comments – how Jon has betrayed his best friend by dating his sister and doesn’t Jon care about Robb’s feelings at all and poor Robb. Sansa wishes she could reply to all of those posters who are sympathetic towards her brother. They obviously have _no_ idea what they are talking about.

 

Those just get her angry though. The other hashtags, those make her drink more and more of her wine – how Jon clearly has a thing for redheads and maybe “I” (the poster) should dye my hair red, too, so Jon will pant after me and is Sansa a _real_ redhead – wink, wink – and Ygritte and Jon were such a much cuter, better couple. Those are painful.

 

Sansa blinks back tears as she gets up to go into the kitchen to pour another glass of wine. She has a low tolerance – always has and probably always will – and one glass of wine can make her head feel a bit light, as it’s exactly feeling right now, but that doesn’t stop her from a second glass.

 

She returns to her computer and continues scrolling and then clicking on other websites, reading the comments below the pictures of her and Jon from that night. More comments about how Jon should have never broken up with Ygritte and is _Sansa_ really the girl he’s with now?

 

Sansa knows that the internet is not for the faint of the heart; trolls sitting at their keyboards, purposely typing the cruelest things they can, almost getting joy from it and receiving no consequence for their words.

 

When Jon comes home an hour later, Sansa is lying on the bed, the bottle of wine now nearly finished and her laptop open in front of her, tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

“Sansa,” Jon rushes to her as soon as he sees the state she’s in. “What is it? What happened?”

 

Sansa doesn’t say anything. She just shakes her head and keeps crying. She then reaches out and presses a button, a paused YouTube video starting to play. Jon watches it for a few seconds before closing her laptop with disgust.

 

“Babe,” he begins to say.

 

“You wrote that song for _me_ ,” Sansa says, angry and still so upset, and she sits up, wiping at her cheeks. “ _Something_ is my song and someone… someone made a fan video of you and Ygritte, using _my_ song.”

 

“Sansa,” Jon sits at her side and his hands go to her cheeks, wiping her tears and brushing her hair back. “None of that matters, Sansa.”

 

“It matters to me,” she says in a shaky voice.

 

“Why?” Jon asks, curious.

 

“Because, Jon! Apparently, the entire world of Direwolves fans agree you should still be with Ygritte!”

 

Why doesn’t he get it?

 

“But I’m not with Ygritte. I don’t want to be with Ygritte. You’re the _only_ woman I ever want to be with.”

 

Sansa looks at him as if she doesn’t understand those words and more tears flood her eyes.

 

“Come on, Sansa,” he pleads. “None of those people matter.”

 

“But they’re your fans,” she whispers.

 

“And I love my fans. They’ve been very good to me. But my fans have absolutely no say in my life,” Jon tells her and Sansa knows that she should already know that, but…

 

She closes her eyes and bows her head, sniffling. Jon kisses her forehead.   

 

“Have you eaten anything?” He asks. She shakes her head. “Rookie mistake, Stark. Drinking on an empty stomach and going on Tumblr,” he teases.

 

Sansa weakly pushes him in the chest. “Don’t make fun of me,” she mumbles and Jon just smiles and kisses her forehead again. “How was the studio?”

 

Jon’s smile disappears almost instantly and after a moment, he then shakes his head.

 

“What do you have a taste for?” He swiftly switches the subject.

 

It breaks Sansa’s heart that their studio sessions are still such disasters. Not that she thought things in the band would be magically fixed or get marginally even better. It's just these four have been together for years and have been through so much together. It breaks Sansa’s heart that it’s all just crumbling and it seems like there’s nothing to be done to fix any of it and make it better.

 

“They think you’re betraying Robb by being with me,” Sansa says.

 

“Who?” Jon is confused for a moment – as if he’s completely forgotten what they’ve been talking about. He then glances to the laptop and then back to Sansa. “You mean faceless names on a computer that know absolutely nothing about you, me and Robb?”

 

“Don’t put it that way,” Sansa says.

 

“What way?”

 

“Don’t make me say it,” she whines, making him laugh.

 

“No. I want to hear you say it,” he grins that beautiful grin of his that makes his face light up and the corners of his eyes crinkle. She then shrieks with laughter when he begins tickling her sides and she tries to twist away from him.

 

“Jon, stop!” She says between laughing. “I’m going to throw up!”

 

“That is so sexy, Sansa Stark,” he laughs now, too, but his fingers cease their torture. “Now, let me hear you say it.”

 

Sansa shoves hair out of her face and gives him a glare that would be much more convincing if she wasn’t so obviously drunk on too much wine right now. And Jon knows it, too, and just keeps smiling like the adorable bastard he is.

 

“Stop acting rational. I don’t like it, Jon!” She snaps and Jon begins laughing. “I’m serious. This… it hurts,” she waves her hand towards the laptop and has trouble meeting his eyes now, almost too embarrassed.

 

“Hey,” Jon says and he’s not laughing or even smiling anymore. He puts his hands on her face and tilts her head up so their eyes meet. “I love you with my whole heart, Sansa Stark. I honestly wouldn’t be _anything_ without you. And when that company in Essos hires you, we’re going to get married and move there and you’re going to act and I’m going to play the guitar for the rest of our lives and we’re going to be happy.”

 

Tears flood Sansa’s eyes again, but much more now from his beautiful words and not so much Tumblr.

 

Jon leans in and kisses her and Sansa’s hands lift to the back of his head, keeping his lips to hers.

 

It’s the first time he’s ever mentioned marriage. She had hoped, but she had thought they should wait for a couple of years. Yes, they have waited so long for one another already, but marriage is the biggest step of all and it’s not one that should just be hurried into. But knowing that Jon is thinking about it – and not just thinking about it, but pretty much banking on them getting married – it’s making Sansa feel much hungrier now for things other than food.

 

She isn’t going to pay any attention though to how Jon is planning a future for them in Essos without mentioning the band even once in those plans. That still hurts her heart too much.

 

…

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/44810676101/in/dateposted/) George and Olivia Harrison

written by George about Olivia


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first section, I mixed a few events together. 
> 
> George had requested a meeting with the other three and they all met at Ringo's house. Only problem was John brought Yoko and then proceeded to not speak a word as Yoko spoke for him. George left the house, angry and disgusted. The scene between Robb and Theon happened, but between John and George. What Theon says to Robb, George had said to John (though John voluntarily took off his glasses when George said it). When John told Paul he was leaving the band, Paul was crying and had to be driven home. He then wrote "Oh! Darling" in response to John. ("Oh! Darling" is one of my favorite Beatles songs). 
> 
> Paul's mother had died when he was a young boy and one night, when the Beatles were in the middle of all of their discourse, Paul had a dream and his mother, Mary McCartney, came to him and they talked and she said "Let it be". Paul instantly woke up and wrote the song over the next few weeks. Fun fact. Knowing the story behind it, it's one of two Beatles songs I cannot sing out loud because I get too choked up ("Eleanor Rigby" is the other one).
> 
> The Beatles made two more records after "The White Album". "Abbey Road" and "Let It Be". They actually began work on "Let It Be", but then stopped to work on "Abbey Road" before picking up "Let It Be" again. That is their last album and it was released after the announcement of their breakup had already been made. The Beatles played on the roof of their Apple Studios on January 30, 1969. What Robb says is what John says at the end of "Get Back". This is the last performance of the Beatles together. (I couldn't find a good enough video of "Get Back" on the roof, but I posted another performance just so you can get the feel for that afternoon). 
> 
> The next chapter is the last chapter - and will have some last thoughts/notes of mine to those who like reading them - and I'm going to miss this story so much, but I'm actually very excited to write the chapter. THANK YOU so, so much to those who have read this story, commented, left kudos and have enjoyed it. I have loved writing every word of it.

…

 

“John’s in love with Yoko and he’s no longer in love with the three of us.” – Paul McCartney

 

…

 

Theon has asked for a band meeting – just the four of them – and they choose Grenn’s house because it’s the most neutral place between all of them. Jon’s not sure what to expect that afternoon and he is really missing Sam right now, but he figures – _hopes_ – that with just the four of them, they’ll be able to talk about some things; maybe be able to even work some of those things out.

 

Grenn’s long-time girlfriend, Beth Cassel, opens the door a moment after Jon rings the doorbell.

 

“Hi, Jon,” she smiles warmly.

 

“Hi, Beth,” he smiles in return and they kiss one another on the cheek as he steps inside.

 

“Everyone else is already here and are out back. Do you want something to drink?” She asks, closing the door behind them both.

 

Jon just smiles. “If I do, I know where everything is.”

 

“Alright. Well, I promised Grenn I would give you guys privacy so… good luck,” she says and Jon thinks that’s perhaps a bit odd to say, but then again, Beth probably knows all of the problems already from Grenn so her saying that might not be odd at all.

 

With one more parting smile, Beth turns and heads up the stairs. Jon takes a deep breath, knowing that he has to mentally prepared himself for this, before heading down the hallway towards the back of Grenn and Beth’s house. Like the other Direwolves with their money, Grenn has bought a house in the country on a massive piece of property that offers much-needed privacy.

 

In the sunroom that has been built onto the back of the house with large windows on all three sides as well as on the ceiling, Jon instantly realizes why Beth has wished him good luck. It’s not just the four of them. He should have known. No, the Direwolves are no longer a band of four. They’re a band now of _five_. Daenerys is there, sitting at Robb’s side, and Theon already looks like he wants to kill the both of them.

 

“Hey,” Grenn stands up when he sees Jon and comes to him. “Thank God,” he then says in a low voice. “Robb won’t take off his sunglasses and he hasn’t said a word yet.”

 

Jon exhales heavily and gives a nod, following Grenn to the table that he and Beth often host dinners at. Robb and Dany are sitting on one side of the table, Theon is sitting across from Robb, glaring at him with his arms crossed over his chest, and Grenn takes his seat again at the head of the table. Jon sits down in the chair next to Theon’s.

 

“So, we can get started now,” Grenn says and it’s clear that he’s going to be acting as mediator. Jon is more than fine with that decision; he doesn’t think he’s in the right frame of mind to do it himself.

 

“We’ll begin,” Dany volunteers.

 

“ _We_?” Theon echoes, his voice dripping with very-thinly veiled anger.

 

Dany ignores him. “Robb feels like you are no longer sharing in his vision of the band.”

 

Jon frowns at her and then looks to Robb, who is sitting there in his sunglasses, not saying a word. It’s clear that he has no plans to say a word either. Jon looks at his best mate who he doesn’t even recognize anymore and his jaw begins to clench. What the hell is the point of this if Robb isn’t even going to speak?

 

“Your vision?” Jon asks, looking to Robb and not his current “voice”. “And what is your vision for the band?” He really wants to know because last time he checked, this was all their band and they all had a say in what they do.

 

“Robb feels that we should be heading in a more creative direction with more experimentations of our sound. We would like our songs to reflect that of walking art.”

 

Jon would almost laugh at the words if there was anything remotely funny about what Robb was actually “saying”.

 

“We? Our sound? Our songs?” Grenn speaks up, his frown as fierce to match any of theirs. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

“I can’t see your eyes, Robb,” Theon suddenly says, his voice low; dangerous. Jon finds himself bracing himself for Theon to throw a punch. “I need you to look me in my fucking eyes.”

 

Jon doesn’t expect Robb to do anything about that.

 

Theon gets to his feet and stares down at Robb. “I need to see your fucking eyes, Robb.”

 

He then reaches over and before anyone can react, he rips the sunglasses from Robb’s face, throwing them aside. Robb jumps, startled, and Jon and Grenn instantly get to their feet, Grenn’s arm out, prepared to stop Robb if need be and Jon holding one of Theon’s arms back.

 

Theon doesn’t move to punch him though. He just glares at him and Robb remains sitting, looking into Theon’s eyes now that there isn’t a barrier between them.

 

“For the past ten years, I have sung every single fucking word and every note you have ever wanted me to sing and play,” Theon says. “I’ve never complained. I’ve gone along with every single fucking thing you have ever wanted to do with our music. But right now, fuck you, Robb.”

 

And with that, Theon turns and storms from the room. Grenn pauses before following after him and Jon stands there, watching them go, before looking back to Robb. He still refuses to further acknowledge Dany’s presence.

 

Robb sighs and his eyes look to Jon’s. “I’m leaving the band,” he then says the words they’ve all been waiting for.

 

Jon has been expecting these very words for the past few months, but Robb finally saying them out loud, Jon feels as if he’s just been smacking in the stomach with a piece of 2x4 and he feels winded. And even having been expecting and waiting for these very words, Jon still feels like crying.

 

…

 

Jon leaves Grenn’s house in a fog and it takes him a moment before realizing that he’s driving to his mum’s house and there are actual tears on his cheeks. He wipes at them angrily and pulls over just long enough to send a text to Sansa before continuing his drive. He doesn’t even register what he says to her. He can’t register anything right now and it’s a miracle he’s able to drive at all.

 

That’s it. The Direwolves are over and he has seen it coming from miles away, but still, to actually hear Robb say the words, Jon feels like his entire body has gone numb.

 

Sansa must have called his mum because when he comes up the drive, Lyanna is standing there, waiting for him.

 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Lyanna gives him a small smile and her arm goes around him, her hand rubbing his back. “Would you like something to eat?” That’s what she always offers when she knows that he’s upset; no matter how old he is, Lyanna will always do her best to try and get food in his stomach.

 

“I need to write something,” Jon says, more like mumbles it, and they go into the house.

 

Jon heads right into the family room and sits down at the piano. His mind is now racing with all sorts of thoughts. What is he going to do now? Yes, he and Sansa have talked about plans and their future; marriage and Essos, but now, facing the possibility of not being in the Direwolves, not being a Direwolf any longer, Jon finds himself lost.

 

His fingers curl over the keys and plays a note. And then another.

 

_“I’m leaving the band.”_

Jon, Theon and Grenn can’t go on without Robb in the band with them and even if they could, that wouldn’t be the right move. They’re the Direwolves. A band of four and without Robb, there just isn’t the Direwolves anymore.

 

Jon plays around for a bit, hitting different notes and chords, trying to get his thoughts all out into a song. Putting his thoughts into a song is still one of the only ways he knows how to do.

 

_“Oh, Darling!_

_If you leave me,_

_I’ll never make it alone._

_Believe me when I beg you,_

_Don’t ever leave me alone.”_

Lyanna hesitates in the entryway of the room before she comes to the piano and without her having to ask and without saying a word, Jon scoots over on the bench and she gives him a smile before sitting down next to him.

 

“Jon,” she says his name and rubs a hand on his back. “It will be alright.”

 

Jon stops playing at that and he turns his head to look at her. Being a Direwolf has given him the ability to take care of her and when this whole thing started, taking care of his mum was one of his highest priorities. She had given him everything she could; had sacrificed more than Jon ever felt he truly deserved and all of this money over the past few years, he feels like he has finally been able to repay her for some of the things she has done for him.

 

He loves his mum and he respects her and looks up to her, but right now, Jon has a hell of a time believing her.

 

“How do you know it will be alright?” He questions her in a soft voice; an exhausted voice.

 

Lyanna doesn’t answer right away; clearly thinking over her words, wanting to say just the right thing to him.

 

She gives him a small smile. “I know it all seems so dark right now, but you just… You have to just let it be and it will all be alright in the end.”

 

Jon stares at her. “Can you… can you say that again?”

 

“What?” She sits up a bit straighter. “It will all be alright in the end?”

 

Jon shakes his head quickly. “No. The other thing you said.”

 

It takes Lyanna another moment to remember exactly just what she has said. “Let it be?” She then wonders.

 

Jon inhales and exhales the same deep breath softly. “Let it be,” he echoes.

 

…

 

Sansa has just gotten off the phone, her insides fluttering around like mad, all doing their best to escape, but her bones and her skin keeping them all firmly trapped.

 

She goes into the bedroom to find Jon sitting in there, his guitar in his lap, and he leaning over, writing something down in the notebook in front of him. When he hears her enter, he lifts his head and gives her a smile; a smile Sansa is more than happy to return right now. The Direwolves are working on finishing one more album – their last album – and they had debated whether or not to finish it at all, but they decided – they had _all_ decided that their fans deserved to hear new songs from them. One last time.

 

She hesitantly sits down on the window-seat next to the chair he’s sitting in and he puts his guitar aside. He writes for another moment before turning towards her, giving her his complete attention.

 

“So?” He asks.

 

“So, they offered,” she confirms, still hardly believing it herself.

 

Jon breaks into a grin. “I knew it. I knew they would.”

 

He stands up just enough for his hands to go to her cheeks and he kisses her, Sansa’s lips curling into a smile against his and her fingers loosely wrapping around his wrists.

 

“I told them I was going to discuss it with you before giving my final answer,” Sansa says once their lips part.

 

Jon smiles at that and sits down on the window-seat next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders, and Sansa smiles, nestling happily into his side.

 

“When I’m done in the studio this week, we’ll fly out to Essos and start looking at houses. Braavos, right?”

 

Sansa nods and looks to Jon for any hint of emotion about what he’s just said. _When I’m done in the studio this week_. Not just when he’s done, but when the Direwolves are done, too.

 

But Jon is smiling and it seems as if, after a few good cries and more than one song written in response, he has seemed to accept the breakup. She, herself, is still saddened by the news and the breakdown between the four, and yet, at the same time, she understands it. The four had so many fights and so much tension between them, it was hardly healthy for them to continue working together. And it seems as if that’s how Jon is looking at it as well.

 

“You really want to move to Braavos with me?” Sansa can’t help, but ask.

 

Yes, they’ve talked about it – getting married and moving to Essos together – but Sansa supposes that so much of her relationship with Jon still feels like a dream and she can’t believe that this is all really happening to her. She’s been in love with Jon for so long, to finally be with him, to finally have him in her life and be able to call him hers, it honestly almost feels overwhelming at times; almost too good to be true.  

 

Jon looks at her as if, perhaps, she has just sprouted another nose on her face. “Is that your way of breaking up with me?” He asks and he’s smiling a little, but his eyes show that he’s completely serious; maybe even worried.

 

“That’s a silly question,” Sansa informs him.

 

Jon smiles a little. “Then yours is, too.”

 

Sansa smiles, too, and they share a soft kiss. “You know, I think we’re going to do great things, Jon Snow.”

 

“Oh, do you now?” He asks, wrapping both arms around her and holding her close.

 

“I get to act in a Shakespeare Theatre Company, which is my dream, and you have a solo career to think about.”

 

Jon is quiet for a moment as if he is thinking that over right this second. “A solo Jon Snow. Who the hell would want that?” He smiles, remembering an earlier conversation of theirs.

 

And Sansa laughs because she remembers, too. “A lot of people, you idiot. The world isn’t done with you yet, Jon.”

 

He sighs softly. “I hope you’re right.”

 

“Jon, if this relationship is going to work, you’re going to have to always remember something.” Her tone is stern, but her eyes are anything, but and Jon begins to break into a grin as he witnesses the lightness in them.

 

“And what’s that?” He wonders.

 

“I’m always right,” she then states matter-of-factly and her serious expression lasts for only a second more before she breaks character and begins giggling and Jon grins before pulling her in for another kiss.

 

…

 

It’s cold on the roof of their recording studio, but they’re all bundled up in their coats and for the first time in a long time, they are having fun with one another, looking at one another with smiles as they sing into their microphones. It’s being filmed – the Direwolves performing an impromptu concert – and the camera moves around to all four as they play songs from their newest – and last – record, _Let It Be_.

 

Their cheeks are rosy and their hair is wind-blown as Jon and Robb do as they always do – sing and take turns and they can hear the cheers of the people down below who have just been going about their days before they realized that it was actually _The_ Direwolves, playing on that roof. The police have shown up and are now on the roof with them as well, but they aren’t breaking the concert up. Not yet anyway. Grenn is secretly hoping that they’ll make a big scene and drag him off the drums and the film will catch it all.

 

But it doesn’t seem to be going that way.

 

People from the studio are up on that roof with them. Dickon and Davos. Dany is there, of course, and for their last day in the studio, Sansa is there, Beth, too, as is Arya, Bran and Rickon. Dickon has brought Gilly and Little Sam and  Jon knows Theon would have brought Jeyne and Jack, but there’s no way he could have done that with Robb and Dany here.

 

They hadn’t known they would be up on the roof, recording and filming a bit, until the four band members had been talking about it over lunch – just some random idea thrown out into the air – and that discussion had led to them dragging all of their equipment upstairs to do just that.

 

Jon’s fairly certain he’s always going to remember this day for the rest of his life.

 

_“Get back, get back,_

_Get back to where you once belonged._

_Get back, get back._

_Get back,_

_Oh, yeah.”_

As they finish singing the song, Jon and Robb look at one another and share a smile and Jon is struck with the realization that he actually can’t remember the last time he and Robb had shared a genuine smile together.

 

They play the last notes of the last song and then there is applause and cheers from those on the roof with them and everyone on the street below.

 

Robb leans back into his microphone. “I’d like to say thank you on behalf of the group and ourselves and I hope we’ve passed the audition.”

 

There is laughter at that and Grenn does a roll on his drums.

 

And for one brief moment, they’re all nineteen-years-old again, back when they had no idea where they were going to get enough money for their next meal. Back when they were best mates and playing in the Flatlands Club in Pentos and just having the times of their lives because they were together and doing something they all loved.

 

Back when they really loved it.

 

For one brief moment, Jon is able to imagine Sam watching them and Jon almost wishes that time had stopped and they were still in that club in Pentos.

 

But then he looks at Sansa, still clapping, and laughing, and brushing hair from her face that the wind is blowing and giving Jon the most beautiful smile. If he was still nineteen, Jon would be nowhere to being with her yet and Jon doesn’t know how he’ll survive ever being apart from her again. He looks to Robb, Theon and Grenn as they laugh and joke around together and for one brief moment, they don’t all hate the sight of one another.

 

For one brief moment – one _more_ time – they’re still the Direwolves and no one can take that away from them.

 

…


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the Beatles officially broke up in 1970, the four were never together in the same room again. All would go on to have successful solo careers and eventually, all four began speaking to one another again - after years of further fighting. John and Paul took jabs at one another in several of their songs (George even played on one of John's songs to Paul). After they began making up with one another, there were rumors that John was thinking about "getting the band back together", but before he could - if that is true - he was shot dead in New York City in 1980. Ringo was in NYC at the same time and as soon as he heard, he rushed to the hospital. The Beatles were inducted into the Rock-and-Roll Hall of Fame in 1988, attended by Ringo, George, Yoko, the two Lennon sons and many, many others. Paul did not attend, but sent out a vague statement that made it clear the surviving members were still not on the best terms with each other. George Harrison then died in 2001 from cancer. Paul and Ringo spent hours with him. When he passed, Olivia was at his side. 
> 
> John and Yoko married and had a son - Sean - but in this story, I did not write the same for Robb and Dany. George and Olivia had one son, Dhani. I was going to name Jon and Sansa's child Danny before realizing I couldn't do that (thank you for seeing me through _that_ freakout, Brad!) There is a funny story of Dhani running home from school, crying, because the kids were taunting him with lyrics to "Yellow Submarine". 
> 
> "Why didn't you tell me you were a Beatle?" Dhani cried to his dad and George smiled a little. 
> 
> "Oh, yeah, I probably should have told you that," he replied. 
> 
> Some figures vary, but the Beatles have sold around around 1.5 billion records worldwide. They remain one of the most popular and influential bands of all time. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much to everyone for reading, commenting and liking this story. I can't even truly explain how much I love this band and what they mean to me. It has meant the world that something I love so much, others love it, too. And to Brad, thank you for everything. 
> 
> PS - _If Not For You_ was actually written by Bob Dylan and George Harrison covered it, but I just love this song so damn much and George's version is perfect.

…

 

“Sorry to interrupt you while you are eating, but what do you think you will be doing in five years’ time when all of this is over?” – A reporter

 

“Still eating.” – Ringo Starr

 

…

 

“Now, our next guest is a very special guest and actually, he’s so special, he’s our only guest of the night. Now, we here in Essos aren’t petty enough to say that we had them first, so I’m just going to stare into the camera and let you make that obvious inference yourselves.” Liomond Lashare stares right into the camera then to do just that and the studio audience lets a laughing reply spattered with some applause. “He needs no introduction whatsoever. Ladies and gentlemen, Jon Snow!”

 

The cheers are instant and reach a near deafening level as Jon steps out from behind the curtain and as he walks to Liomond, he smiles and holds his hand up in greeting. He and Liomond exchange smiles and a hug before they move towards the desk and chairs. Jon settles himself down, still smiling at the audience, the roars going on for a minute more before Liomond holds up his hands to quiet them down.

 

“Still got it,” Liomond, now sitting behind his desk, gives Jon a grin.

 

Jon smiles in return. “Still got it.”

 

“Now remind me. You were how old when you performed on my show?”

 

“Nineteen and absolutely scared shitless,” Jon answers, getting himself comfortable, the smile never leaving his face. He has given a few print interviews over the past four years, but no talk-show interviews. He’s not entirely sure why he’s agreed to be on Liomond Lashare’s show tonight except the man had asked and Jon supposes that he had no good reason to _not_ appear.

 

“Ten years,” Liomond shakes his head as if he can’t believe that. “Well, you don’t look like you aged at all.”

 

Jon has just taken a sip of water from his mug on the desk. “No need to butter me up, Liomond. I’m already here,” he jokes and Liomond gives him a grin.

 

“So, it’s been four years since _the_ breakup and we have heard from the other guys. They’ve all put out their solo albums already, but not you. It’s almost as if you went underground. So, this is what me and my audience want to know, Jon Snow. Where the hell have you been?” Liomond asks and Jon laughs a little at the question.

 

“Well, I got married and we had a baby. He’s three now and I’ve been staying at home, taking care of him and supporting my wife. She has supported me for years and years and it was my turn to do the same for her.”

 

More applause and Jon smiles to the audience before looking back to Liomond.

 

“Now, I must tell you something. We, here in Braavos, absolutely love your wife,” Liomond says and the audience breaks out into applause and cheers, which makes Jon smile wide.

 

“Thank you. I love her, too,” is his reply.

 

“For those who don’t know,” Liomond speaks to the camera. “Jon’s wife is Sansa Snow, an actress with the Shakespeare Theatre Company here in Braavos and she has just finished an amazing run as Lady Macbeth.”

 

Jon claps right along with the audience at that.

 

“We have a home here in Braavos and another home in the North in Westeros so we split our time between the two when Sansa has a break in between plays,” Jon continues. “We’re actually heading back there in a couple of days for my mother-in-law’s birthday.”

 

“Can I ask if it’s awkward at these family functions with Robb as your brother-in-law?” Liomond asks.

 

Jon pauses to take another sip of water. “You can ask,” he nods with a little smile.

 

Liomond smiles, too. “Is it awkward at these family functions with Robb as your brother-in-law?”

 

“It can be,” Jon admits. “But we’re all adults and we choose to act as adults for our families.”

 

“And do you see Grenn and Theon still?”

 

“I do. When Grenn played in Braavos with his band, Sansa and I went to go see him and we hung out backstage for quite a while and then Theon and Jeyne and their family came last month to see Sansa in _Macbeth_ and they came over for dinner and we had a great time, hanging out.”

 

“That’s a curious turn of events,” Liomond notes and he doesn’t have to further explain what he means.

 

Jon shrugs. “I’m not going to comment on it. I’ve saw the awful things people said about Jeyne and Theon both, online, when they got married, but I’m just going to say that it wasn’t a good time for Jeyne after her divorce from Robb and Theon was there and he kept asking her to marry him for three years before she said yes, so the people saying that Jeyne hopped from one Direwolf bed into the next, they can sod off as far as I’m concerned.”

 

There are cheers after that and Jon holds his mug up to the audience as if in a toast and Liomond gives a smile.

 

“Have the four of you been in the same room together since the breakup?” Liomond asks.

 

Jon’s smile slips and he shakes his head. “No.”

 

“So, no talks of a reunion?”

 

“I’m never going to say never, but… the four of us, at this moment, have moved on. We all have our own music and families and, with the way it ended…” he trails off and shakes his head and doesn’t say anything further about it.

 

“Our own music? Please tell us that you will be putting some new music out soon, Jon,” Liomond says and the audience immediately breaks into cheers and applause at that.

 

Jon just smiles. “During my son’s naptimes, yes, I’ve been writing. Actually, when we go return to the North, I’m going to be meeting with my producer, Dickon Tarly, and we’ll be heading into the studio to begin recording.”

 

The cheers at that are instant and so loud, nothing else can be heard for a few minutes.

 

When it begins to die down, Liomond gives Jon a big grin.

 

“Now, speaking of your writing, I read something about you on the internet.”

 

“Must be true then,” Jon replies with a smirk.

 

“Now, there are some very sleuth-like Direwolves fans out there-”

 

“I believe that,” Jon laughs.

 

“And they have a theory that when you were dating Ygritte, she was not actually the woman you were writing all of these love songs for. Is that true?” Liomond asks.

 

Jon smiles. “What makes them say that?” He asks in return, a slight laugh in his tone.

 

“Well, they have raised a very good point and I must admit, I feel like an idiot for not having seen it earlier myself. Many of your early love songs were written before you even knew Ygritte. So, even if she was your muse for the _later_ songs, she certainly couldn’t be for your earlier ones.”

 

“Even when I dated her – and I just want to say that Ygritte is a lovely and nice person, but she also knows this – that even when I dated her, Ygritte was never my muse.”

 

“It was Robb, wasn’t it?” Liomond grins and Jon chuckles in response.

 

“I will never get used to people wishing me and Robb had some gay love affair,” Jon admits to audience laughter. “But no, Robb wasn’t my muse either. I’m actually surprised it has to be question from so many because I always felt, perhaps, I had made it _too_ obvious, but considering my wife hadn’t known she was the muse until I told her…”

 

“So, it was Sansa?”

 

“Always. Ever since I was fourteen and started to write my own songs, I’ve always been writing them for her.”

 

…

 

They own a house not that far from his mother’s home and the Starks with a massive backyard complete with an in-ground pool and a garden. Jon sits in one of the lounge chairs, his acoustic guitar in his hands, plucking the strings and occasionally tuning one when he hears the slightest thing off. Three-year-old Eric Snow is sitting on the blanket that has been spread out for him in the grass in front of Jon, playing with his toys, and Ghost, their white Malamute dog, lays in the grass, keeping watch over them both.

 

Eric has his own little plastic guitar that he loves to play with – the buttons making different sounds and lighting up with different colors – and Jon smiles as he plays and Eric tries to mimic him. Jon isn’t going to push his son into music. He can learn an instrument, of course, but he can decide he wants to act like his mom or go the completely opposite direction and become a chemist, Jon just wants his son to be happy.

 

Jon smiles when he feels a pair of slim, warm and familiar arms circle his shoulders from behind and he turns his head to look at Sansa as she leans over the back of the chair.

 

“We have to get going soon,” she says and he nods, kissing the corner of her jaw, before looking to his guitar. “And Harwin’s office called. He wanted to remind you that you have your eye exam tomorrow at two and don’t be late because tomorrow is the day he closes the office early and he’s sticking around just for you.”

 

Jon smiles at that as well and continues plucking away. Sansa kisses his cheek, her lips lingering.

 

He begins playing and singing the song he’s been working on.

 

_“If not for you,_

_Babe, I couldn’t even find the door._

_I couldn’t even see the floor._

_I’d be sad and blue,_

_If not for you.”_

_If not for you,_

_My sky would fall._

_Rain would gather, too._

_Without your love, I’d be nowhere at all,_

_I’d be lost if not for you._

_If not for you,_

_The winter would hold no spring._

_I couldn’t hear the robin sing._

_I just wouldn’t have a clue._

_If not for you._

_If not for you.”_

He strums the last chord and once done, Eric begins clapping for him and Jon and Sansa both laugh, smiling at their baby boy as he grins at them in return.

 

Jon then turns his head back to Sansa and she looks at him with a smile and tears in her eyes.

 

“Like it?” He asks.

 

“Love it,” she nods and lifting a hand to the back of her head, Jon pulls her in for another kiss.

 

…

 

In the four years since the Direwolves broke up, Robb and Dany married, moved down to King’s Landing and now are in their own band. Jon has listened to their music, of course, and it’s not all his taste, but the songs Robb sings on by himself – just him and his piano – Jon thinks they’re some of his best work.

 

In the past four years, he and Dany have also gotten clean.

 

The birthday for Catelyn Stark is celebrated with a small party with just the family. Dinner and cake with everyone singing to her and she smiling and blushing with embarrassment. When she blows all the candles on the cake out, they all clap and cheer for her and Ned kisses his wife on the cheek.

 

“Cake!” Eric and Rickon both exclaim.

 

Robb is on one side of the table with Dany and Jon is standing with Sansa on the other side of the table, Eric in Sansa’s arms. Even in the same room though, Jon and Robb’s eyes don’t even meet. They exchange polite words whenever they first arrive at a Stark family event, but more than that, they keep respectable distances. They just feel it will be best for everyone.

 

After cake and ice cream, Jon stands up from the couch where he has been sitting and talking with Bran and goes into the kitchen where Sansa has Eric sitting on the counter, wiping his face clean of ice cream.

 

“Daddy!” Eric exclaims happily when Jon enters the kitchen and Jon chuckles at the sight of their son.

 

“Here,” Sansa finishes up and then lifts Eric up, turning to put him into Jon’s arms. “Take him outside and make sure he runs off some of his energy so he sleeps for us tonight.”

 

“Right, you heard your mama,” Jon looks to Eric. “You are going to sleep tonight so your mama and I can have our own party without you breaking it up like you like to do.”

 

Sansa gives him a look for that one. Eric is getting to be older now and asks a lot more questions about what his parents say. She is _not_ ready to have that conversation with him yet. Jon just smiles at her though and keeps smiling until Sansa rolls her eyes and he lets out a laugh.

 

Sansa kisses them both on their cheeks and then goes into the dining room to begin helping Arya clean the table off of dishes and Jon carries Eric out into the backyard. He pauses for only a moment when he sees that Robb is out there, sitting in one of the chairs by the fire-pit, smoking a cigarette. He then shakes his head slightly. It doesn’t matter if Robb’s back here, too. The backyard is certainly enough for all of them.

 

“Go on then,” Jon says and gives Eric a kiss on the cheek before setting the boy down, he immediately tearing off to catch the last of the fireflies blinking in the twilight.

 

Jon keeps himself up on the back deck, watching over Eric, smiling as he listens to Eric laughing at his simple fun. He wonders what would happen if he went over to Robb right now and just sat down in the chair next to him. He’s alone. Dany’s still inside so that helps – a little. But still, it’s been so long since he has sat and talked with Robb without wanting to kill one another, Jon doesn’t even know what he would say to the man who was once more than his best mate; he was his brother and partner.

 

He wonders if Robb thinks about him sometimes like Jon’s own mind is prone to lose itself to memories on occasion.

 

He is ripped from his thoughts when Eric suddenly lets out a surprised cry and he falls into the grass – hard. The boy is stunned for a moment and then explodes into cries. Jon runs from off the deck and goes to scoop him up.

 

“You’re alright now. Daddy’s got you,” Jon assures him, but Eric continues crying.

 

“Here,” Robb says, suddenly at Jon’s side. “Bring him to the fire and let’s take a look,” he suggests.

 

Jon follows him to the fire-pit and he sits down in one of the chairs, settling Eric in his lap, and Robb lowers himself back down into his own chair again.

 

“Let’s have a look, yeah?” Jon says and Eric is still crying, but the tears are silent down his cheeks now. He sniffles and nods and Jon rolls up his jeans so he can take a look at his knees. “Oh, look at that. Just little burns. You’ll be alright.” Jon then bends over and blows gentle breaths onto the knees and then gives each a kiss. “There? Is that all better now?”

 

Eric sniffles and doesn’t say anything.

 

Robb pulls something from his coat pocket. “Would you like to hear a song, Eric?” He asks and Jon sees that he’s holding his harmonica in his hands.

 

Eric, still quiet, nods.

 

Robb gives his nephew a small smile and then brings the harmonica to his lips. The instant he begins playing, Jon knows instantly. He can’t help it. His hand began tapping out the beat gently on Eric’s leg.

 

_“Love, love me do._

_You know I love you._

_I’ll always be true.”_

Robb pulls the harmonica away from his mouth to sing the next two lines with Jon.

 

_“So please, love me do._

_Whoa, love me do.”_

Robb and Jon look at one for a passing beat – quiet between them and Jon wonders what Robb is thinking because Jon knows what _he’s_ thinking right then.

 

He really misses him.

 

Robb then gives him a small smile and Jon returns it with a small smile of his own.

 

Robb then brings the harmonica back to his mouth and Jon continues singing, bouncing Eric on his knee as he does and Eric giggling in response, his tears forgotten, as he claps his hands along to Robb’s harmonica and Jon’s singing and Jon takes his son’s hands, showing him how to clap as if he is playing Grenn’s tambourine.

 

From the corner of his eye, he can see her coming from the house and crossing the yard towards them and he doesn’t stop singing as he turns his head to look at her. Sansa gives him a smile – her eyes bright and happy with tears that aren’t falling. He gives her a smile, too, before looking back to Robb.

 

The song ends and Eric claps his hands, laughing with delight.

 

“Any other requests?” Robb asks them all.

 

 _“I Want to Hold Your Hand_ ,” Sansa answers, perching herself on the wooden arm of Jon’s chair and Jon takes his arm, slipping it around her waist, holding onto her.

 

Robb rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning as he does it. “Of course, you’d want to hear _your_ song,” he teases and Sansa beams in return.

 

It’s been a long time since Robb and Sansa have smiled at each other, too.

 

Robb begins to play the opening notes, obviously sounding a bit different on a harmonica, but sounding familiar all the same. And this time, Sansa takes Eric’s hands, showing him how to clap this particular beat and Jon begins singing. Robb looks at him as he plays, smiling with his eyes, and Jon smiles, imagining them being seventeen, writing these songs for the first time.

 

He then looks to his wife and son and he can still remember sitting next to her on the bus on their way to school, trying to keep himself cool despite sitting next to the girl he’s been in love with since he was old enough to even recognize what the hell that feeling was. She had her face turned to the window, watching passing Wintertown, and he had wondered if she had been able to feel him staring at her.

 

And as Jon stared at Sansa – much like he’s staring at her now – he had begun to write a song in his head about what he wanted to do most in this world when he was with her. He wanted to hold her hand.

 

He still wants that.

 

So, he does.

 

He pulls his arm from around her waist and slips his hand between both of hers, in the middle of her clapping. Sansa looks at him with a smile and she slips her fingers in between his and Jon squeezes her hand.

 

…

 

“We were four guys. I met Paul and I said, “Do you want to join the band?” Then George joined. And then Ringo joined. We were just a band that made it very, very big. That’s all.” – John Lennon

 

 

The End.

_If Not For You_

One of John's jab songs at Paul. George is on guitar.

A perfect scene from _A Hard Day's Night_


End file.
